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COFiRiGHr DKPOsrr. 



The Eternal Magdalene 



ROBERT McLaughlin 




3Al«ftmL French, 28-30 West 38th St., New York 




Photo by Sarony 



As 



JULIA ARTHUR 

The Eternal Magdalene 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 



A MODERN PLAY 

. IN 
THREE ACTS 




BY 



ROBERT McLaughlin 



CoPYRicnT, 1915, BY Robert McLaughlin. 
Copyright, 1918, by Samuel French. 



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned 
that "THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE," being fully 
protected under the copyright laws of the United 
States, is subject to royalty, and any one presenting 
the play without the consent of the author or his au- 
thorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law 
provided. Applications for amateur acting rights 
must be made to Samuel French, 28 West 38th St., 
New York. Applications for professional acting rights 
must be made to the American Play Company, 33 
West 42nd St., New York. 



New York 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

publisher 

2S-30 West 38th STREET 



London 
SAJMUEL FRENCH, Ltd, 
26 Southampton Street 
STRAND 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 




aO 51 561) 



APR -3 1919 



DESCRIPTION OF SCENE 

The library of Elijah Bradshaw's home in Eden- 
burgh, Illinois: The room is finished in dark wood. 
There is a fireplace at right. Over the fireplace is 
a large picture of the Magdalene. At left is a long 
bookcase extending the length of the side wall. 
Over the bookcase is a tapestry panel. Up-stage at 
left of center there is a French window opening out 
on the porch. Through this window the audience 
gets a glimpse of lawn and shrubbery. At right of 
center an arch opens into the hallway and reveals 
a stairway leading to upper portion of the house. 
The street door opens at the left of this arch and 
persons entering the house are first seen to cross 
above the window. Down-stage left there is a mas- 
sive tab'e used by Bradshaw as a writing desk. 
This table is fitted with a telephone and is cluttered 
up with books and papers. There is a large arm- 
chair at left of table and a smaller chair at right of 
table. Another armchair sets well down left. There 
is a smaller chair between the window arch and the 
door arch. Down right of center there is a smaller 
table with chair at left of it. At right of this 
table and adjacent to the fireplace is a long couch 
facing up~stage. Below this couch is a settee. The 
furniture is all of the Jacobean type. The room is 
lighted by three brackets on the back wall. The or- 
naments and draperies of the room all are in keep- 
ing with its quiet elegance. A hall clock is visible 
on the stair landing. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 
CAST OF CHARACTERS 



Elijah Bradshaw Emmett Corrigan 

Martha Bradshaw Louise Randolph 

Paul Bradshaw Robert Hudson 

Elizabeth Bradshaw Claire Burke 

John Bellamy Lowell Sherman 

Rev. Birmingham Smollet Arnold Lucy 

Judge Amos Bascomb Harry Harwood 

Arnold Macy Frank Byrne 

Blanche Dumond Lucile Watson 

Rev. James Gleason Alphonse Ethier 

Dan Burke E. M. Dresser 

Otto Wm. J. Phinney 

A Woman of the Town Julia Arthur 



SYNOPSIS OF SCENES 

Act L Library of Elijah Bradshaw's Home, 

Edenburg, Illinois. 
Act II. Same. 
Act III. Same. 

Time — The Present. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 



ACT I 



Time: It is seven o'clock in the evening, and all 
the lights are lit. 

Discovered: Stage clear at rise. Paul, Bellamy 
and Macy enter. They have been on an auto 
trip to the country club and are dusty and 
travel-stained. 

Paul. (Speaks as he enters) I guess every- 
body's at dinner. Good thing we ate out there. 

Bellamy. (Off-stage, a!s he is the last to enter) 
And a bully good dinner it was, too. It was worth 
the dust. (He brushes his coat) 

Paul. Fm a sight, too. 

j\Iacy. (Crossing to r.) Don't mention it. Look 
at the Illinois real estate on me. 

Bellamy. (Crossing to l.) No wonder the way 
you hit it up, Paul. We made it in here in thirty 
minutes. 

Paul. (From up l.) Well, it's only eighteen 
miles. That's not so speedy. Come on up-stairs 
and we'll brush up a little. 

(Bess enters upper r. and comes down c.) 

Bess. You boys are late. Dinner's all over. 
Bellamy. Don't worry. We dined at the 
Country Club. 

Bess. (Crossing to Bellamy) Selfish. You 



6 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

might have taken me. {She noiices Macy. Bess 
turns to Paul) 

Paul. This is Mr. Macy — my sister. 

(Bess Crosses to Macy — gives him her hand) 

Macy. {Meeting Bess c.) Pve had the pleas- 
ure before. 

Bellamy. What? {Glances at Macy) 

Bess. Yes, indeed, I met Mr. Macy in father's 
office a year ago. 

Macy. I'm glad to see you've not forgotten. 

Paul. Come on, fellows, if you want to doll up 
{Starting for stairs) 

Macy. {Up r.) If you don't mind, old chap, 
I'll run along to my hotel. After four hours of golf 
and that steeple-chase ride home, what I need is a 
tub. {Turning to Bess) 

Paul. How about you, Bellamy? 

Bellamy. Well a whisk-broom and a little soap 
might help some. 

(Bess crosses to Bellamy.) 

Paul. Just wait a minute, Arnold, and I'll 
drive you over to your hotel. {Turns to Bess) 
Sis, you entertain Mr. Macy until I come down. 

Macy. {Crosses up r. c.) Please take your 
time, won't you? 

(Bellamy looks at Macy suspiciously.) 

Paul. Time enough to look a trifle presentable. 
Come on, Bellamy. {They exit upstairs) 

Bellamy. What size collar do you wear? {As 
he is going upstairs) 

Bess. {Back to table l.) Won't you sit down? 

Macy. {Crosses to c.) Thanks. You're look- 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 7 

in<;- charming, as usual. 

Bess. I'm well. And you? 

Macy. Never better. I was afraid you had 
forgotten me. 

Bess. No indeed. I often think of you. And 
the talks we had. 

Macy. I've thought of you, too. 

Bess. You have really? What have you 
thought ? 

Macy. I've often wondered how such a delect- 
able girl happened to reside in such a detestable 
town. 

Bess. That's simple enough. It's my home. 

Macy. What a pity. And does the desire never 
come to you to go away — to 

Bess. (Smiles sadly) Never come to me? It 
never leaves me. 

Macy. But you have been about, of course — 
seen things, I mean? 

Bess. Yes, I've travelled with mother and father. 
Chicago, New York and — even New Orleans. 

Macy. Indeed — you have been a globe-trotter. 

Bess. But trips like that only make things worse. 
After Nev/ York, Edenburg seems like a village. 

Macy. And isn't it ? 

Bess. (With a touch of local pride) Hardly. 
It has almost a hundred thousand. 

Macy. (Patronizingly) Well, it's bigger than 
I thought. But where do they all keep them- 
selves ? 

Bess. Home, mostly — and church. 

Macy. (Crossing to table r.) From what you 
say, I assume that you would take the first oppor- 
tunity to shake the dust of Edenburg from your — 
slippers. 

Bess. Would I? I'd like to have someone give 
me the chance. 

Macy. (Bess slowly crosses to chair at r. c.) 



8 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Chances like that come sometimes. But if things 
here are such a bore, we can at least do this. What 
do you say to going to the show to-night? 

Bess. Oh, I'd love to. But I couldn't dream of 
it. With this great moral upheaval in town, the 
theater is out of the question. (Sits in chair) 

Macy. Oh yes, the moral upheaval. Is it really 
as bad as the papers make out? 

Bess. Worse ! 

Macy. This fellow Gleason is a wonder. They 
say he cleaned up a cool fifty thousand in his last 
town. (Sits on bench) Beats my job of selling 
bonds all hollow. 

Bess. Sh ! You mustn't let father hear that. 
Father is chairman of the citizen's committee. It 
was he who brought Mr. Gleason to town. 

Macy. Jove, I had better be careful. 

Bess. Father thinks the sun rises and sets in 
Mr. Gleason. 

Macy. I guess it does. He certainly gets them 
going in every town. I'm sorry about the theater. 
You see I'm leaving town to-morrow, and — • 
(Reaches over and takes her hand) 

Bess. You don't mean to say you're going with- 
out hearing Jimmy Gleason ! 

Macy. Well, if I stayed, it wouldn't be Gleason 
that would keep me; you see, there's another — 
(Paul and Bellamy enter down-stairs, speaking as 
they come) 

Paul. Come on, Arnold, I'll take you over now. 
(Coining dozvn c.) 

Bess. (Rises zuith Macy) Why do you have to 
hurry ? 

Macy. (Dorvn r.) Look at me ! That's the an- 
swer. (Indicating his clothes) 

Bellamy. (Coming down l. c.) Did you ever 
try to put a fourteen collar on a fifteen neck? 

Macy. I've been trying to induce your sister to 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 9 

go to the theater. 

Paul. Soft pedal on the show-stuff if you ever 
want to sell Dad any more bonds. 

Bess. If we can't go, we can have a little music 
anyway. (Runs through door dozvn r.) 

Paul. Fine ! There's a record on there now. 
It's Poupchon. 

{Victrola siaris, Bellamy stands dozvn r. zvaiting 
to dance zvith Bess. Macy crosses quickly, 
dozvn-stage in front of Bellamy.) 

Macy. Shall we? (Bess nods approval and 
they dance. As they start Bellamy crosses to r.) 

Martha. [Entering dozvn-stairs, coming dozvn 
c.) Vv'hy, Bessie ! {They stop dancing) 

Bess. (Dozvn r. c.) Mother, this is Mr. Macy. 
{C''''osses hurriedly through door, dozvn r. and stops 
Victrola. Stands dozi'n r. and talks to Bellamy. 
Martha nods very coldly) 

Macy. (Dozvn r. c. l. to Martha) How do you 
do? 

Paul. {Dozvn l. c.) You've heard of Mr. 
Macy, mother. He sells father securities. 

Macy. {To Paul) You mean, 1 try to. 

Martha. How do you do? 

Macy. {Nods to Martha) I wanted to see Mr. 
Bradshaw and arrange an appointment for tomor- 
row, so Paul was kind enough to bring me over 
from the Club, but this seems to be Mr. Bradshaw 's 
busy evening, so I'll try to catch him on the phone 
later. {Turns to Bess; Good evening, Miss Brad- 
shaw. {Crosses to r. c.) Sorry about the show. 

Bess. {Crosses to Macy) I'm sorry, too. 

Macy. Some other time — next time I'm in town ? 

Bess. Yes, and I do hope you'll call. 

Macy. Thanks. I'll be sure to, {With glance at 
Mrs. Bradshaw) if I may. (Paul, Macy and 



10 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Martha exit through arch, Martha and Macy go 
out on porch and stand in front of window) 

Paul. (From center of arch) Oh, John. 

Bellamy. (Down r.) All right, in a minute. 
(Paul exits to porch. Bellamy crosses to r. c.) 
Say, Bess, what's he been saying to you? 

Bess. (Who has watched the others out, turns 
and crosses to Bellamy) Nothing, except that he 
asked me to go to the show. 

Bellamy. Well, he is a pretty foxy fellow to 
have buzzing around the girl you love. 

Bess. John, don't be silly. 

Bellamy. Well, I am silly where you're con- 
cerned, and I'm going to put an end to it. 

Bess. An end to what? 

Bellamy. An end to this suspense. 

Bess. Are you thinking of jumping off the 
pier? 

Bellamy. No. I'm going to get up my nerve 
and have it out with your father. 

Bess. Oh, you'd better wait. You know how he 
is these days. 

Bellamy. (Crossing to c.) I don't care. I'm 
going to put it up to him the first chance I get. 

Bess. (Taking hold of Bellamy's arm and stop- 
ping him) John, I wouldn't do it now, it might 
spoil everything. 

Bellamy. (Starting to go) Never you mind. 
You leave your father to me. 

Martha. (Entering from hall) John, John, 
they're waiting for you. 

Bellamy. All right, Mrs. Bradshaw. (To Bess) 
111 see you later — (Exits through street door) 

Bess. (At window) Mother, Mr. Macy's nice, 
don't you think? He asked me to go to the show, 
but of course 

Martha. (Cautioning Bess with finger) Sh! 

Bradshaw. (On landittg of stairway) Asked who 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE ii 

to go to the show? (Comes down c.) 

Martha. Mr. Macy. He asked Bess to go to 
the theater. 

Bradshaw. Macy? Who's Macy? 

Bess. You know Arnold Macy. You introduced 
him to me yourself in your own office. 

Bradshaw. Because he meets you in my office, 
does not give him the right to call on you here. 
(Crossing to head of desk down l.) 

Bess. He didn't call. Paul brought him. 

Bradshaw. Next time he comes, I want to know 
it. 

Bess. (Crossing to Bradshaw) Now, father, 
you wouldn't be rude to him? 

Bradshaw. I'll tell him to confine his aflfairs 
with this family to business with me at my office. 

Martha. He seems a nice young man, EHjah. 

Bradshaw. Young! He isn't so young. Be- 
sides, who is he? He may have a wife and a half a 
dozen children for all I know. 

Bess. (Coaxingly) Now, father you're cross to- 
night. (Tries to enihrace him. Martha gives Bess 
another cautioiiing glance) 

Bradshaw. None of that now. (Bess crosses 
to R. and sits on bench) I know the world, and you 
don't.' (Sits at desk) 

Martha. (Crosses to r. of desk) But, Elijah, 
I think that 

Bradshaw. I've seen his kind and I don't want 
him here again. Now, that's final. 

Bess. (Pouting) That's the way of it. Shut 
up here in this house. Might as well be in Sing- 
Sing. Better, for there are lots of interesting young 
men there. 

Martha. Elizabeth ! 

Bess. (Picking up newspaper) Jimmie Glea- 
son ! Jimmie Gleason ! Nothing in these papers but 
sermons. Subject for to-night — (Reading) *' Put- 



12 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

ting the devil into Hell." (Still reading) "All 
there is in the Bible I am going to preach. I'll give 
you enough Hell before I'm through! " 

Martha. Elizabeth ! 

Bess. I was reading from that sermon. 

Bradshaw. Well, don't read it in that spirit. 
(Clock strikes seven o'clock) Seven o'clock — you 
and your mother had better be getting ready. Paul 
will go with you. (He busies himself zvith papers) 

Bess. Come on, mother — Father is as cross as 
an old bear. Let's give him his den all to himself. 
{They exit through arch and upstairs. Desk phone 
rings) 

Bi-iADSJiAW. Hello, yes — yes — my statement — yes, 
well, I'm working on it now. Yes, have him call 
in an hour or so, — thank you, — I have only been 
one of the many. My only hope has been to give 
Edenburg a clean bill of moral health. I want to 
thank The Star for its loyal support. (Paul crosses 
porch) It has been a great factor all around. Yes — 
Good-bye. 

Paul. (Enters and hangs hat in hall, comes 
dozvn c, speaking as he co]ries) Mother tells me 
I have to go to the tabernacle again to-night — is 
that right ? " 

Bradshaw. You certainly do. 

Paul. You know, I have been there three nights 
running and I thought 

Bradshaw. Never mind what you thought. 
You're going just the same. (Paul turns and 
goes c.) You know I can't go to-night. You must 
go with your mother and Bess. Nice thing for my 
family not to be represented at these meetmgs, and 
I the 

Paul. But, father 



Bradshaw. Now, that's enough! (Paul starts 
to exit down R.) I suppose your mind is on that 
leg-show that's playing here! (Rises and crosses 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 13 

bclozu desk to c. speaking) I thank God for your 
sake this city is in for a moral house-cleaning. To- 
night every father in Edenburg should be glad for 
his son's sake. To-night we are going to smash 
the vice district for all time. I hope my boy, you 
have never been guilty of going down there. 

Paul. (Crossing to Bradshaw at c.) Father, 
you know- 

Bkadshav/. No, I don't know. But I hope you 
have had more respect for your mother and sister. 
(Smollet crosses porch) No father is sure of his 
chiklren ; he hopes but he isn't sure. 

Paul. But I want you to be sure. 

(Smollet rings bell.) 

Bradshaw. There, see who that is. (Crosses 
down stage back to desk and sits. Paul goes to 
hall door) 

Smollet. (From porch) Is Mr. Bradshaw in? 

Paul. It's Mr. Smollet. 

Bradshaw. Have him come in here. (Smollet 
enters crossing to L. c. Paul exits upstairs) Ah, 
Sm-oUet, I thought you were at the tabernacle? 

vSmollet. Gleason and 1 were on our way 
there. AVe ran into a lot of reporters up the street 
Mn:] they nailed him. (Crosses to chair at r. c.) 
He'll be along presently. We thought we'd just 
drop in here first and see how you were getting 
along vv'ith your statement for the papers. (Sits) 

Bradshaw. I am working on it now. The Star 
phoned me a little while ago asking me to hurry. 

Smollet. You're making it strong? 

Bradshaw. Rest assured of that. It is the final 
blow at segregated vice in this city, and it mvist 
come straight from the shoulder. 

Smollet. (Rubbing his hands ecstatically) What 
a victory — what a victory! 



14 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw. Victory, yes. (Rises and crosses to 
c.) But we mustn't give the Mayor a chance to 
recant. We must clinch the thing right now. We 
must apply the sleep-wallop, as Gleason says. 

Smollet. (Beaming) Splendid! 

Bradshaw. (At c.) I have written briefly, but 
to the point. (Reading) " As Chairman of the 
Citizens' Committee, I desire now to congratulate 
the people of this community on the great victory 
they have won over the hosts of Satan. The elim- 
ination of the segregated vice district at midnight 
v/ill crown with success a crusade that we have 
wac^ed for months prayerfully, and with God's he^p, 
potently. At the stroke of twelve to-night, the 
doors of these dens of depravity will close forever, 
and their shameless inmates will no longer menace 
the youth of our city." 

Smollet. Amen ! 

Bradshaw. (Continues reading) "As head of 
this Committee I have been subjected to much criti- 
cism by sentimentalists who profess to believe that 
these women have certain rights ; that they should 
be coddled and pampered and paraded as martyrs. 
I am disturbed by no such convictions. Prostitution, 
like any other pestilence, should be stamped out at 
whatever cost. When a leper comes into our midst, 
the law does not inquire how he came to be a leper, 
but it says ' banish him instantly ' ; so say I of moral 
lepers. I believe in giving sin no quarter; in hold- 
ing no parley with evil-doers. A clean sweep of the 
tenderloin has been my goal in this fight and I praise 
God that we have won. I take this occasion to 
thank the Mayor and members of the Committee, 
who, to a man, gave their best efforts to this cause, 
and to all others who by their encouragement and 
prayers assisted us in our fight. But most of all 
I want to thank the great Evangelist Gleason 
whose inspiring words have awakened this city to 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 15 

a realization of its sinfullness and without whom 
no such crusade as we just finished so triumphantly, 
would have been begun." There! (Crosses to 
lower end of desk) 

Smollet. (Chagrined at not being mentioned) 
Ls that all of it? 

Bradshaw. No, no, as I go along, I shall re- 
view the movement since its inception. (Seeing the 
disappointment depicted on Smollet's face) Oh. 
rest assured I shall see that you get the full credit 
for your part in it. (Crosses back of desk) 

Smollet. (Brightening) I have done nothing 
worth speaking of. 

Bradshaw. (Sits) You, my dear friend, have 
been the real pioneer. 

S^roLLET. (Rises overwhelmed) I? 

Bradshaw. Most certainly. That series of ser- 
mons you preached last Winter set the ball rolling. 

Smollet. (Protestingly. Crossing to c.) I beg 
of you ! 

Bradshaw. Have you forgotten your New 
Year's Eve grill-room expedition? 

Smollet. No — but 

Bradshaw. Your expose of the dance halls, the 
pool-rooms, the theater 

Smollet. My dear Mr. Bradshaw ! 

Bradshaw. Those sermons were the sparks 
that set off this town's moral magazine. 

Smollet. I am overjoyed if you think so. 

Bradshaw. I know it. It was your work that 
paved the way for Gleason and I shall see that 
the people do not forget it. 

Smollet, (Crossing to chair r. of desk) But 
you — without you and your great generosity it 
would not have been possible. 

Bradshaw. You are probably right there — 
Gleason doesn't work for nothing, does he? (Mar- 
tha starts doxvn-stairs) But I have plenty and how 



1 6 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

could any man spend money to better purpose. I 
don't re^rret a nickel of it. 

Smot.let. (Shakes hands zv'ith Bradsi-iaw) 
Certainly not. This work will be a lasting m.onu- 
niene to you. 

(Bradshaw sits. Martha enters arch and comes 
dozvn c.) 

TvL\RTiiA. How do you do, Reverend Smollet? 

Smollet. (Turns and goes to Martha c.) How 
do vou do ? Are you going to the tabernacle ? 

Martha. Yes, we're all going. 

Smollet. I'm on my way there myself. I'm just 
waiting for Mr. Gleason. 

Martha. (Brightening) Mr. Gleason. He 
hasn't been here for a week. What a wonderful 
man he is ! 

Smollet. Wonderful ! A human dynamo. 
(Crossing to r. c.) 

Martha. He's tireless. I don't see how he 
stands it! (Crossing to r. of desk l.) 

Smollet. Neither does anyone else. I see by 
the papers that you and some of the other members 
of the Mothers' Club visited the unfortunate women 
to-day ? 

Martha. Yes, and I am completely upset over it. 
(Sits in chair) I told Elijah I can't make up my 
mind now whether we are doing the right thing in 
driving them out. 

Smollet. I am surprised. What happened to 
make you feel so ? 

Bradshaw. She has a touch of that sentimental- 
ity that I refer to in this. (Indicating statement he 
has just read) 

Martha. Call it what you like. Perhaps it is 
— perhaps it is something else. We talked to lots 
of those women. They are all different from what 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 17 

I had been lead to expect. 

Smollet. How different? 

Martha. They are human, and I hardly thought 
them that. Do you know, there is scarcely one of 
them (I jBfot this from the women who run the 
places) who is not supporting children, or an old 
father or mother, or sick relatives. 

Smollet. Er — that is barely possible. {Sits in 
chair r. c.) 

Marttta. T ta'Iccd to one girl. A pretty girl she 
was. She had brown eyes and hair and a sweet 
face. " I got into this life rather by degrees," she 
said, " and if I get out of it, it will be in the same 
way." She thanked us for offers of help, but said 
she couldn't accept them. At another house we 
heard of a poor girl who was soon to become a 
mother. We went to the women in charge of that 
house and offered to take care of the girl. " No, 
thank you," the woman said, " the Tenderloin takes 
care of its own." 

Bradshaw. Umph ! 

Martha. We talked with her for an hour, I 
guess. And when we left I invited her to come and 
see me. 

Bradshaw. What, here? 

Martha. Surely, why not? 

Smollet. (Alarmed at the thought) Mrs. 
Bradshaw ! 

Bradshaw. What woman is it? What's her 
name? 

i\L\rtha. (Hesitatingly) Dumond— Blanche 
Dumond, they told me. 

Smollet. (Rises and crosses to c.) Blanche 
Dumond, the most notorious woman in town ! 

Bradshaw. x\nd you've invited her here ? You're 
going to try to help her? 

Martha. No, no, no. Not going to try to help 
Miss Dumond. The girl I spoke of. 



i8 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw. Umph ! 

Martha. I found Miss Dumond to be a remark- 
able woman, I thought — bright, entertaining, and 
good-looking. And she has a warm heart, too, for 
when she saw how anxious I was to help this girl, 
she beckoned me aside and told me that the girl 
was not an inmate of the house, but had been given 
refuge there in her time of trouble. 

Smollet. a fine refuge! Why couldn't she 
have gone to a Christian institution? Now, we 
have 

Martha. I spoke of that, and Miss Dumond 
said that unfortunate girls like this one seem to 
have an instinctive horror of such places. 

Smollet. A horror of them? And why, pray? 

Martha. It is because. Miss Dumond said, they 
are usually labelled " Homes for Fallen Women," 
and most girls she thought would rather die than 
walk in a door under a sign like that. 

Bradshaw. Umph ! 

Martha. It seemed to her like tearing off the 
last rag on one's self-respect. 

Smollet. A charming philosophy, indeed ! 
(Crossing to r. c.) 

Martha. Ah, but Miss Dumond went further. 
She had won the girl's confidence and found out 
who her parents are. And yesterday she wrote 
them a long letter, trying to prevail upon them 
to come and take the girl home. (Rises and goes c.) 
I was so interested I made Miss Dumond promise 
to call and tell me how it all turns out. 

Bradshaw. Martha, Martha. I told you not to 
go prowling around down there. Those people are 
past help. Their sense of decency is dead. They 
belong in the pest-house and the sooner they are 
sent there, the better. 

Martha. I am not so sure. 

Bradshaw. Well, I am. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 19 

Martha. This experience to-day has given me 
a broader vision. I do not consider that I am any 
better than my sisters of the underworld. 

Bradshaw. Martha ! 

Martha. Only that I have been more fortunate 
than they, in that circumstances have not at any 
time put me face to face with the necessity of 
earning my living in their way. Because I have 
been spared such an existence, it seems to me now 
that I should deal gently with those of my sisters 
who seem less fortunate than L 

Smollet. I am surprised to hear you talk so. 

Martha. Perhaps. But what I say is true. 
When I look back over my youth, I can see now 
there were times, when if circumstances had not 
intervened, I might have made a false step — a step 
that might have lead to just the sort of thing 
I have seen to-day. 

Bradshaw. Can you imagine, Smollet? 

(Gleason crosses porch.) 

Smollet. Really, if you persist, you will have 
your husband curious as to details. (Gleason rings 
hell) Hello, maybe that's Mr. Gleason now. 

(Otto crosses from up r. quickly, but Gleason 
does not wait for him to open the door. He 
comes in quickly and closes door.) 

Gleason. (To Otto) Never mind, my man. 
I know the combination. (Otto exits and Gleason 
conies through arch briskly) Hello, everybody. 
How do you do, Mrs. Bradshaw? (Shakes hands 
with Mrs. Bradshaw up l.) Ready, Smollet? 
We're way behind schedule. Couldn't shake those 
newspaper guys off. (Crosses to back of desk l. 
Mrs. Bradshaw crosses to Smollet down r. c.) 



20 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Smollet. I'm ready any time you are. 

Gleason. (Slapping Bradshaw on back) Well, 
Bradshaw, to-night's the blovv^-off. We'll ring the 
curfew on our scarlet sisters to-night. 

Bradshaw. Yes, I've said that here, but not ex- 
actly in the same words. 

Gleason. Oh, this your stuff for The Star? 
That's what I blew in to get a line on. {He picks 
it up and scans it hurriedly) We don't want any 
skim-milk in this. It's gotta' be red-hot, right off 
the griddle. {He glances over statement quickly 
and shakes head disapprovingly) " Elimination of 
segregated vice district." — " At stroke of twelve to- 
night," — too poetic, old pal. Good — but too Ella 
Wheeler! (Smollet laughs) Why don't you say 
** Before morning there'll be a can tied to every 
every dirty door knob on West Street." Put som.e 
shrapnel in it! {He reads further) And here — 
(Puts paper dozvn in front of Bradshaw) never 
mind about thanking me. Thank God. He's the 
fellow. I'm the guy that does his advance work, but 
I want Him to get the credit. 
- Smollet. {Beaming) Naturally, naturally. 

Bradshaw. Well, you see the statement isn't 
finished yet. I shall bear down a little harder later 
on. 

Gleason. Great ! Don't weaken. Stick the pep 
into it. 

Bradshaw. I think it will please you. 

Gleason. It will if it's an inshoot and right 
over the pan. What are all these? — squawks? {In- 
dicating letters on Bradshaw's desk) 

Bradshaw. No, most of them are from friends 
commending us. A few are — well, not so friendly. 

Gleason. {Laughing and crossing to c.) Don't 
let that worry you. You ought to get some of my 
mail. {All laugh) 

Bradshaw. But did you ever get one as bad 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 21 

as this? (He picks up a letter) 

Gleason. (Crossing to desk) Say, I get junk 
in every mail that'll tie anything you got there. 
Shoot it and see. (Sits in chair r. of desk) 

Bradsiiaw. It's from a girl. She goes on to 
tejl of her clothes and things being put into the 
street by the police, and she ordered out of town. 

Gleason. Well, what about it? 

Bradshaw. It ends with a curse. 

Martha. A curse — how terrible! (Crosses be- 
hind desk to L. of BradshawO 

Gleason. (Passing it off lightly) What does 
she say? 

Bradshaw. (Handing Gleason the letter) 
Here, read it. 

Gleason. (Reading) *' This town is my home 
just as much as it is yours. And I'm going to stay 
here in spite of you and the police. I shall remain 
here to see your daughter ruined and your son an 
outcast and a thief. I shall remain here to see 
your wife — (Pause as lie turns page over) torn from 
you by death (Martha puts her arm around 
Bradshaw) and to see you follow her to your grave 
deserted, heart-broken and disgraced. This is my 
curse. That this may come to you is the prayer of 
— Mabel Mordaunt." (He rises and goes to c.) 
Um! That is a stiff one. (Turns to Bradshaw) 
You'd better cross your fingers. 

Smollet. (Rapping on table) Or rap on wood. 

Martha. (Turns up-stage) It's awful ! 

Gleason. (Crossing back to desk) Nix, nix, 
nonsense. Come over and read some of mine. Stick 
that in your vanity-box, Bradshaw\ (Handing him 
letter and starting for arch) Come on, Smollet. 
I've got to get over there, you know that. (Stops 
suddenly and points out unndozv) Get a slant at 
this, our customers are coming in bunches now. 

Smollet. (Starting tozvard arch) I'm with 



22 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

you. 

Gleason. Good-bye, folks. See you^ later. 
(Shakes hands zvith Mrs. Bradshaw at window) 
Keep your eyes peeled for the fireworks to-night. 
Come on, Smollet, beat it. (Slaps Smollet on back 
end both exit quickly through arch) 

Bradshaw. (Rising and going to window) I'll 
catch you at the meeting at noon to-morrow. 

Gleason. You're on. (As they exit across porch 
Martha comes down c. ; Bradshaw opens window 
and goes out on porch) 

Martha. (Nervously) I'm worried about that 
terrible letter. 

Bradshaw. (Smiles a little nervously and comes 
to c.) You always had a little streak of super- 
stition, didn't you? Now what difference can it 
make what some vicious girl writes to me? 

Martha. (As Bradshaw pats her on shoulder) 
But, Elijah, I 

(Phone bell rings.) 

Bradshaw. Pardon me a moment, dear. 
(Crosses to desk; Martha gives a little gesture of 
despair and exits through arch and upstairs. 
Bradshaw at phone) Hello, — yes, this is Mr. 
Bradshaw. Who? Macy? Well, what is it — No, 
I am not at leisure to-night — Yes — to-morrow I 
may see you at my office — What ? — Yes, at my office, 
and please understand I don't do business at my 
house. When I want any bonds I'll buy them from 
you at my place of business. — You understand? — 
Yes — good-bye. (Door bell rings; Bradshaw re- 
sumes writing; Otto enters up R., goes to street 
door, nods to Bellamy then enters c.) 

Otto. Mr. Bellamy of The Star is here, sir. 

Bradshaw. (Impatiently) Oh, I'm not ready 
for him yet ; however, let him come in. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 23 

(Otto crosses to arch and admits Bellamy, then 
closes street door and exits up R.) 

Bellamy. (Coming doum to r. of desk) Oh, 
good evening, Mr. Bradshaw. 

Bradshaw. I suppose you are here for that 
statement? It isn't ready. Can you wait a while? 

Bellamy. Sure. I'll tell you what Til do. I've 
got to cover the Gleason meeting to-night, so I'll 
stop on my way back to the office. 

Bradshaw. That's better. That will give me 
plenty of time. 

Bellamy. (Starts to go, then pauses; back to 
desk) By the way, Mr. Bradshaw, may I speak to 
you about something more important? 

Bradshaw. (Continues writing) Well? 

Bellamy. About Bess. 

Bradshaw. Bess? What about her? 

Bellamy. The fact is, I want to marry her. 

Bradshaw. (Drops back in chair) You want 
to do ivhat? 

Bellamy. I said I want to marry her. 

Bradshaw. So, you have been making love to 
her behind my back, have you? 

Bellamy. Not exactly. I tried to keep further 
away from you than that. 

Bradshaw. Did she know that you were going 
to speak to me? 

Bellamy. I told her I'd take the first oppor- 
tunity. 

Bradshaw. (After pause, turning it over tn 
his mind) How much money do you make? 

Bellamy. (Crossing to c. a little nervously) 
Forty-five dollars a week. 

Bradshaw. Umph! My dear young man, with 
that salary you couldn't keep my daughter in 
shoes. 

Bellamy. I heard that you were a poor man 



24 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

once. 

Bradshaw. I was. and I'm proud of it! 

Bellamy. Did you have such a sumptuous sal- 
ary when you were married? 

Brad€haw. (Caught off guard, retrospectively) 
Twelve dollars a week, I think it was — (Recovering 
himself) But times have chaneed. There is no 
use talking about it. It is out of the question. 

Bellamy. Then your answer is No? 

Bradshaw. My answer is No. 

Bellamy. No possibility of any change? 

Bradshaw. None. 

Bellamy. (Starts to go, then hesitates and re- 
turns) May I ask if you have any objections to 
me — personally ? 

Bradshaw. No. No. — Except that I think you 
are just a little too smart, for one thing. 

Bellamy. Too smart? What do you mean — 
too smart? 

Bradshaw. I've sized you up as one of those 
young fellows who think they know more than 
their fathers. I don't know where they get it. 
College, perhaps. They are chock-full of skep- 
ticism, pessimism and agnosticism. They poke fun 
at the churches and scoff at sacred things generally. 

Bellamy. (Leaning over desk) Oh, now, please, 
Mr. Bradshaw — don't put me in that class. Where 
did you get the idea I am that sort ? 

Bradshaw. I got an inkling of it when you 
opened up on Gleason the other night. It struck 
me you had considerable nerve to talk to him the 
way you did. 

Bellamy. You mean when I was interviewing 
him? I did lose my head a Httle, didn't I? But 
he got my goat telling me how God calls him from 
one city to the other, and we know — especially you 
ought to know — that he couldn't hear God calling 
him with a megaphone if they didn't show him the 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 25 

color of the coin. (Sits in chair r. of desk) 

Bradshaw. There, you see — that is just the 
sort of irreligious talk I mean. You've got the 
wrong angle, my boy. 

Bellamy. (Taking nezvspaper proof from 
pocket) What about Gleason's angle? And ir- 
religious stuff? How about this, a copy of his ser- 
mon to-ni.e:ht sent around by his advance accent. 
He's telling the story of David and Goliath. (Read- 
ing) " Oh, little Dave soaked old Goliath on the 
coco, between the lamps, and he went down to the 
mat for the count. Then Dave drew his sword, cut 
the big guy's block off and the rest of the Philistine 
gang beat it." 

Bradshaw. (Smiling) That's Gleason's style. 
He means it the right way. 

Bellamy. Give him credit, boys. Perhaps you 
think my angle's wrong on the tenderloin question? 
You heard me talking to him about that, too? 

Bradshaw. Yes. I was shocked to think that a 
young man would defend anything so infamous. 

Bellamy. I wasn't defending it, but I was citing 
some rather convincing crime statistics from other 
cities which eradicated theirs several years ago and 
are now balancing up their police court records. 
Gleason began to quote the Bible and quite naturally 
the argument blew up. 

Bradshaw. And quite as naturally, Mr. Gleason 
was right. 

Bellamy. Perhaps, but I never knew it to fail, 
the minute you begin to pull cold, hard facts on a 
preacher, he starts to shout scripture at you and all 
bets are off. (Bradshaw glances up quickly) Now, 
don't get the idea that I'm trying to be smart, be- 
cause I'm not. But it is my conviction there are 
two sides to this question, just like every other ques- 
tion and I told Gleason so. I know one side is rot- 
ten enough. Any reporter who has ever done police 



26 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

court knows that. But if I were in the Mayor's 
place and had it in my power to close them up, or 
let 'em run, and I wanted to be on the square with 
my own conscnnce, well I swear I don't know what 
I'd do. 

Bradshaw. It is extremely fortunate for this 
community that you are not the Mayor. 

Bellamy. Maybe. Still, I don't know. I might 
get by. I took some pretty good lessons in mayor- 
ing. 

Bradshaw. Lessons? Umph! From whom? 
(He continues writing, glancing up at intervals) 

Bellamy. From old Sam Jones in Toledo. I 
worked on The Blade up there for a while and used 
to cover City Hall. You remember him? They 
called him " Golden Rule Jones," because he oper- 
ated on the do-unto-others-as-you-would-be-done- 
by plan. His police court was a court of rehabili- 
tation. He found the good that is in every man and 
built on that. And Toledo was what they call an 
open town. So a committee like yours called on 
Jones to ask him to close up the tenderloin. I hap- 
pened to be in the office at the time. He listened 
patiently to their argument and said : " All right, 
boys — let's shut her up." The committee beamed 
on him. " But," said Tones, " There are only two 
ways to do it." " Well,'' said the committee, " Well," 
said Jones, " The first way is to chloroform all the 
inmates — that would be murder and we can't do 
that, can we? The committee shook their heads, 
" And the only other way is to drive these women 
from our town into the surrounding towns and 
it would be like dumping our garbage over our back 
fence, an unneighborly and unchristian-like pro- 
ceeding, and we don't want to do that. So I guess 
we better let things be just as they are " said Jones. 

Bradshaw. Umph ! 

Bellamy. The committee got as far as the door 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 27 

when Tones had an idea. " Hold on you boys, there 
might be a way out of this. Suppose we good citi- 
zens of Toledo take these women into our homes as 
guests or servants and let our wives and daughters 
reform them. You can put Mrs. Jones down for 
t^vo — how many will your wives take?" Well, say, 
the chairman of that committee hit the ceiling like a 
sky rocket : " What " he cried. '* Take women of 
that class into our homes. I've always heard you 
were a damn fool Jones and now I know it first 
hand"; and that meeting busted up right there. 
(Rises and crosses c.) 

Bradshaw. (Secretly impressed) So, that's 
where you got your ideas — from a mountebank 
mayor. 

Bellamy. Some of them. (Crosses to desk above 
chair) But we're way off at a tangent, Mr. Brad- 
shaw. Have you been giving any thought to that 
question I asked you a little while ago? Have I 
any chance? 

Bradshaw. I told you, you haven't. 

Bellamy. {Belotv chair) Just the same, I'll 
ask you again when I come back to-night. Maybe 
by that time you'll change your mind, — about that 
and other things. 

Bradshaw. What do you mean by "other 
things? " 

Bellamy. Your stand on the social clean-up 
proposition, for instance. 

Bradshaw. My dear young man, I think I am 
safe in saying that if I do change my mind on that 
question, I may promise you that I will on all 
others. 

(Paul comes dozvn-stairs and enters through arch 
dressed for street. Comes down c.) 

Bellamy, (Leaning over desk) That's a bet 



•28 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

— I'll hold you to that promise. 

Paul. Hello, Bellamy — back again? 

Bellamy. {Turning to Paul) Yes, I came to 
see your father on business. I'm off to hit the 
sawdust trail. As I thought, I've got to cover the 
Gleason meeting to-night. 

!'ai;l. Ar(; i'm eiecied to chaperon the ladies. 
(Going to arch) Wonder when this stuff is going 
to stop? 

Bellamy. Oh, a couple of weeks will wind it up. 
(To Bradshaw) Everybody is getting converted 
and the Gospel-mill is running short of raw ma- 
terial. 

(Martha and Bess come down the stairs and 
enter through arch. Martha has coat over 
arm. She crosses to Bradshaw l. who rises 
and comes up-stag e to help her on with her 
coat. Bess crosses to Bellamy r. c.) 

Bess. We're going to the tabernacle. 

Bellamy. So am I. May I come with you? 

Bess. (Arranging gloves) Surely come along. 

Bellamy. (Taking Bess' arm and pulling her to 
one side) I've just been speaking to your father. 

Bess. About what? 

Bellamy. About us. 

Bess. Us? Heavens, what did he say? 

Bellamy. He said — No! 

Bess. Sometimes he says " no " when he means 
" yes." 

Bellamy. Let's hope this is one of the times. 
I'm going to the mat with him again. 

Bess. The mat? 

Bellamy. Wrestle with him again, you know. 
I'm getting full of slang since Gleason came to 
town. 

Paul. (Has been putting on light overcoat and 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 29 

cjloves) Come on, folks, or you will miss the over- 
ture. 

{Clock strikes eight.) 

Bess. Oh, we can hear it from here. Come on. 
(They move toward the door) 

Bellamy. See you later, Mr. Bradshaw. 

Martha. ( A' /5.?/«^ Bradshaw) Good-bye, dear. 
We will be back in an hour or so. 

Bess. Come, mother. 

Martha. Yes, dear. 

(Paul opens door and sound of church music is 
heard. ) 

Bess. (Laughs) There, it's started already. 
Paul. I told you we'd be late. 
Bellamy. (Light laugh) All aboard for Jor- 
dan. 

(Party exits off l.) 

Bradshaw. Good-bye. (Goes out on porch, lis- 
tening a few moments to music. Otto enters up «. 
closes street door, comes down r. puts out table 
lamp. Crosses up-stage to table. Bradshaw goes 
hack to desk; and sees Otto) Lock the street 
door. (Otto exits through arch and locks street 
door. Hall lights go out. Otto comes down r. 
of desk) Turn out those lights and draw the Cur- 
tains. (Otto ttirns out lights and draivs curtains, 
comes doivn and places chair right of desk at up- 
stage end of desk) Vm not at home to anyone, — 
to anybody, you understand? 

Otto. Yes, sir. (He exits up r.) 

(Bradshaw is left alone, sitting at desk. Desk 



30 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

lamp is lit. He writes steadily for a few mo- 
ments. Nothing is heard save the scratching of 
his pen on the paper. He stops writing, then 
lifts the paper to read.) 

Bradshaw. Let's see how I cover this point. 
(He reads. Sound of singing off) " In spite of the 
silly sentimentality that prevails in certain quar- 
ters these women who ply their unspeakable trade 
must be shown no pity. They have forfeited all 
right to human sympathy. One and all, they must 
be driven from the city — ruthlessly, remorselessly 
as we would drive from our door-yard a pestilential 
criminal who sought to do us bodily harm. It is 
not pertinent to say that misfortune drove them to 
this, or poverty, or betrayed love, or a predisposition 
passed down by immoral parents. We have to deal 
with effects, not with causes. And I seriously mis- 
trust if any of these alleged causes may be substan- 
tiated in fact. Our misfortunes are all of our own 
making. Poverty is a disease bred by laziness ; be- 
trayed love is a nickname for lust, and predisposi- 
tion is a cowardly excuse for hiding our own crimes 
behind the tombstones of our ancestors. And so 
we call upon the officials of this city to do their 
duty. Not merely to close up these houses of in- 
famy, but to see to it that their inmates, these women 
with the scarlet letters on their breasts, are ban- 
ished forever from the community." — {He yawns 
and continues to grow drowsier. He sees letter of 
girl and picks it up and starts to read dreamily) " I 
shall remain here to see your daughter ruined and 
your son an outcast and a thief. I shall remair 
here to see your wife (turn) torn from you by 

death — and — see you There — there — Martha, 

what difference can it make what some vicious 
girl — writes to me? (His head falls slowly over 
on the desk and he is asleep. Desk lamp dims to 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 31 

black. Magdalene enters and comes c. stage. 
Voices sivell. Blue spot slozvly dims, upon Magda- 
lene picture r. Then dims black again. Voices 
dim slozvly away. Desk lamp slowly comes up, 
Bradshaw's head slozvly comes up with lamp and 
he sees Magdalene standing c. light straw spot on 
zvoman's face, steel blue spot on Bradshaw's face) 

Bradshaw. {In awed voice) Hello, who arc 
you? 

Woman. A woman. 

Bradshaw. Yes, yes, but who are you? What 
are you doing here? 

Woman. You mean my name — what does that 
matter, I am a woman. 

Bradshaw. How did you get in here? {He 
moves as though to ring for servant) 

Woman. Please don't, I'll go. {She wavers as 
though from weakness) I thought you might help 
me. 

Bradshaw. What made you think that? Help 
you ? How ? 

Woman. To get employment. 

Bradshaw. Perhaps, but this is no time or place 
to apply for work. Go to my store to-morrow and 
if you can convince my superintendent that you are 
willing and honest 

Woman. That's just it. I am afraid I can't. — 

Bradshaw. Can't what? Aren't you willing 
to work? 

Woman. Willing, yes — but I could never work 
in your store. I must have a place not quite so pub- 
lic. You sec 

Bradshaw. No, I don't see. What do you 
mean ? 

Woman. I mean that I am too well-known. It 
would never do. Now a place here — in your home — 
that would be different. 

Bradshaw. We are not taking unknown women 



32 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

into our home. It strikes me you have a lot of pre- 
sumption to ask for work and then dictate just what 
kind of work you are going to do. Why do you 
come to me anyway ? I want you to go now before 
I call and have you put out. {Starts to ring again) 

Woman. I come to you because you are respon- 
sible. 

Bradshaw. Responsible? Responsible for 
what? 

Woman. For my being in the streets to-night — 
homeless. 

Bradshaw. I ! What have I to do with it ? 

Woman. You have everything to do with it. 
Don't you know that hundreds of women like me 
are cursing you at this very moment? 

Bradshaw. Cursing me? What for? 

Woman. For having them thrown out of their 
homes into the gutters. Don't you suppose they 
read the papers? Don't you suppose they know 
that it's your money that's paying for all of this, 
that you are the one to blame? 

Bradshaw. I see, you mean the women of the 
district, I see. Well, let them curse. My con- 
science is clear. But why do you — am I to believe 
that you — are — are 

Woman. One of them — yes. 

Bradshaw. (He looks at her incredulously) 
You don't look like a vicious woman. 

Woman. {Turning to him appealingly) No? 

Bradshaw. Your face reminds me of someone 
I once knew — a good woman she was — and your 
eyes — I'll not believe it. {He passes his hand across 
his eyes as though to drive azvay a memory. He 
drops back in chair. The woman throws hack her 
cloak, revealing a gaudy red dress cut extremely 
low. She wears tawdry jewels and her whole ap- 
pearance is suggestive of an inmate of a house of 
prostitution) 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 33 

Woman. Will you believe it now? (As she 
places cloak on chair iip-stage end of desk. Baby 
straw which has been shining only on her face nozv 
envelopes her completely) 

Bradshaw. (Rising in rage) And you dare 
profane my home, contaminate this very room where 
only a few moments a,c:o my wife and children were? 

Woman. Your children? A daughter? 

Bradshaw. A daughter, yes. A virtuous girl, 
th^nk God. 

Woman. A son? 

Bradshaw. A son who has not met such as you. 

Woman. These two your only children? 

Bradshaw. Yes. (He reaches for bell) 

Woman. Are you sure, quite sure? 

Bradshaw. Sure of what? 

WoMAx\\ That these two are your only chil- 
dren. That there is no one else who has the right 
to call you father. 

Bradshaw. What do you mean? 

Woman. (Leaning over desk) A moment ago 
my eyes attracted you. Now look in them again 
and say you do not remember the woman whose 

Bradshaw. (Guiltily) You don't know what 
you're saying. I want you to 

Woman. Are you afraid? 

Bradshaw. Afraid of you — you 

Woman. Then if you are not afraid, let your 
mind go back to an autumn long ago. A girl you 
lured from home and then betrayed. My eyes may 
help you to remember. (He turns on her slowly and 
gazes into her eyes fixedly. A great fear comes over 
him) 

Bradshaw. Ruth ! Your mother. Blackmailer ! 
Someone told you. 

Woman. I needed no one to tell me. 

Bradshaw. It cannot be possible. Why she's 
been dead these twenty years. 



34 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Woman. And they never told you she had left 
a child. 

Bradshaw. No. I never knew. I never knew. 
I'll not believe it! 

Woman. And yet my eyes. 

Bradshaw. (Gazing at her intently) Your 
eyes — my God — I must believe it now. You are 
my daughter! 

Woman. I have not said so. 

Bradshaw. No, but I can feel it here — here. 

Woman. Do you recall where you met her? 

Bradshaw. At Blenheim, in the autumn. 

Woman. Love comes quickly in hazy autumn 
days. 

Bradshaw. Ours came so. 

Woman. You loved her then? 

Bradshaw. I thought so. Her innocence and 
youth attracted me. And finally when I asked 
her to come, she came with me to Montreal. And 
there 

Woman. And there — you deserted her. 

Bradshaw. Yes. (He hangs his head in shame) 

Woman. (With pity) Poor — poor girl. 

Bradshaw. (Slowly recovering himself) And 
you her child? Her child. I pity you, and duty 
demands that I provide for you. Here, here is 
money. You must go away. When this is gone 
I will send you more. (He takes a packet of money 
from desk drawer) 

Woman. I don't want money. It's the cheapest 
thing in the world. I want a home, a father's love 
— oh, let me remain here. 

Bradshaw. That is impossible. You must go. 

Woman. No, please let me stay. It is my 
right. 

Bradshaw. No you must go. I couldn't face it. 

Woman. No one need know. Let me remain 
here as a servant. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 35 

Bradshaw. a servant ! And my son and 
daughter ! 

Woman. They will not be harmed by me. 

Bradshaw. Not harmed by you — a common 

Woman. But still by your own confession, your 
daughter ! 

Bradshaw. My daughter! (Rings for servant) 
My punishment ! God's vengeance ! And to what 
imspeakable depths you have fallen. 

Woman. I heard you read a little while ago 
that our misfortunes are all of our own making. 
That's not altogether true in my case, is it? You 
see, I had no chance — no mother's love — no one to 
point the way. But now — (She Hirns to him ap- 
pealingly as Otto enters through arch) 

Bradshaw. (Wavers between the resolution to 
have the girl thrown info the street and the pa- 
ternal impulse to protect her) Otto — show Miss — 
this young woman to a room. To-morrow she is to 
help about the house. See that she is made com- 
fortable. She comes to us — highly recommended. 
(Otto turns and exits up r.) Go, now, please. 
(To Woman. Woman turns slowly, takes cloak 
from chair and walks slozvly up to arch where she 
turns and faces Bradshaw who is standing watch- 
ing her intently) 

Woman. Thank you. 

(There is a short pa^isc and Bradshaw slozvly sinks 
into his chair.) 



ACT II 



Time: It is nine o'clock in the morning. Brackets 
and desk-lamp are out. Morning sunlight on 
the outside of zvindozv. Three baby spots from 



36 THE ETERNAL ]\1AGDALENE 

bridge, straw, to cover as much of stage as 
possible. Arc lamp straw on zvindozv of street 
door. Clock strikes nine at rise. Bellamy 
is seen crossing porch to street door. He rings 
door bell. Otto crosses hall and admits him. 

Bellamy. {Coining briskly through arch to c.) 
Is Mr. Bradshaw in? 

Otto. (Up c.) He is not feeling well this 
morning. 

Bellamy. Well, you tell him Mr. Bellamy of 
71ie Star is here and I must see him at once. 

Otto. Yes, sir. Will you wait here ? 

Bellamy. Yes. Oh, is Miss Elizabeth about? 

Otto. She is in the breakfast room. Shall I tell 
her you are here? 

Bellamy. No. Just Mr. Bradshaw. (Otto 
cvits up R. ; Bellamy goes to arch — looks around 
thoughtfully, goes to desk l. ; takes up phone) 
Hello, — hello — give me 7977 Belford — yy, yes — 
The Star office. (Bradshaw enters up r.) Never 
mind, little sister. {Hangs up receiver and comes 
c.) 

Bradshaw. (At c.) Hello, Bellamy, what do 
you want with me so early? 

Bellamy. I'm on a tough job, Mr. Bradshaw. 
I'd rather pass it up. I'm here for the paper. It's 
about Paul. 

Bradshaw. (Showing surprise) Paul? What 
about him? 

Bellamy. Well I'd rather take a licking than 
be the one to tell you — it's about the bank. 

Bradshaw. The bank? What about the bank? 

Bellamy. An investigation held last night. 

Bradshaw. Investigation of what? What are 
you driving at? (Crossing down to l.) Now don't 
come here and drag me away from my breakfast 
to talk bank business. Why don't you talk to Paul. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 37 

He attends to that end of it. (Sits at desk) 

Bellamy. {Crossing to desk l.) I know. It's 
about Paul that I've got to tell you. There has been 
a shortage. 

Bradshaw. Well what of it? I'm only a direc- 
tor and not morally responsible for that. If some- 
one is short — if somebody has stolen from us, there's 
no occasion for alarm. The bonding company will 
make good. Tell your paper so. 

Bellamy. But don't you see? Can't you under- 
stand that they are blaming Paul as the responsible 
person ? 

Bradshaw. How can they attach any responsi- 
bihty to him? He's merely the assistant cashier. 
Thoy will have to go higher up. If anybody 

Bellamy. It isn't a question of responsibility, 
it's a question of guilt. 

Bradshaw. Guilt! 

Bellamy. Yes. Now I've been trying to break 
it to you as gently as I can that Paul is charged with 
the shortage. A warrant will be issued this morn- 
ing unless something is done to head it off. (Crosses 
to R. c.) 

Bradshaw. Paul charged with it? (Rises and 
crosses around desk to C.) 

Bellamy. Yes. 

Bradshaw. Come, come young man, this is too 
serious a thing to joke about. 

Bellamy. Can't you see I'm not joking. It's 
because it is so serious that I've come to you. We 
must do something. Now if 

Bradshaw. Wait. Who told you this? Who 
says that my boy 

Bellamy. Perkins. 

Bradshaw. (Crossing to r.) Perkins. That 
rat! 

Bellamy. (Crossing to r. c.) Yes, one of his 
examiners tipped the office a few minutes ago. 



-38 THE ETERNAL ]\IAGDALENE 

Luckil}^ I got the assignment and hustled right 
over. Now if we act quickly, the whole thing can 
be hushed up. 

Bradshaw. (Sitting on bench R.) Hush it up? 
If it's true, hushing it up won't help here. {He 
strikes hiiiiself on the heart) 

Bellamy. But it's not so bad perhaps as you 
think. Only about five thousand. 

Bradshaw. The amount doesr.'t matter. You 
say my boy is a thief ! That's the thing that hurts, 
hurts. (The Woman enters up r. carrying a fresh 
bouquet of fl.ozvers. She crosses and places them on 
desk at L. She is unobserved by the two men) Does 
he know? 

Bellamy. About the investigation? 

Bradshaw. Yes. 

Bellamy. No. 

Bradshaw. We must keep it from his mother 
at all costs. It would break her heart. 

Bellamy. We can do that all right. 

Bradshaw. What can he have done with the 
money ? I have never denied him anything. He has 
had everything he asked for. Everything. — Gamb- 
ling, that what's done it. The stock market — or 
worse. (Woman zvho has been ivatching the two 
men intently, goes out on porch keeping her eyes 
on Bradshaw. Bradshaw rises and goes c. to 
head of desk) But why didn't he come to me? 
Why didn't he come to me? 

Bellamy. My suggestion is that you see Paul 
right away, then we can get to the bank officials be- 
fore it goes any further. (Crosses to door r. ) 

Bradshaw. ' (Pulling himself together) That's 
the thing to do. (Goes to desk and rings for ser- 
vant) Moralizing won't help us any, will it? Paul 
is still in his room. I'll see him at once. You wait 
in here. (Crosses to r. and indicating door) When 
I am ready to go to the bank I'll call you. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDx^LENE 39 

Bellamy. All right, I'll be waiting. {He exits 
through door, Bradshaw turns and crosses up c. 
Woman comes doivn from zvindozv and intercepts 
him ) 

Woman. Does it occur to you that he might 
have stolen this money for a woman? 

Bradshaw. A woman? What woman? 

Woman. A woman living in a flat on Orchard 
Street. 

Bradshaw. You don't know what you're say- 
ing. How dare you suggest such a thing to me? 
(Otto enters from up r.) Tell my son to come 
here quickly. 

(Otto exits up the stairs.) 

Woman. I know the woman. Married to a man 
who abused her, she left him and tried to earn her 
living by working in your store. But it was not 
enough ! Your son noticed her, talked to her and 
learned her story. He induced her to leave your 
store and set her up in a little flat on Orchard 
Street. He likes her and I think will marry her 
when she gets her divorce. Meanwhile 



Bradshaw. li this is true, he can rot in jail. 
If this is so, the bank can prosecute. I wash my 
hands of him. {Crosses to desk l.) But how do 
I know you are telling me the truth? It's all so 
strange, your coming here last night and now this. 

Woman. Then why don't you find out the truth 
from him? 

Bradshaw. I will. Til have him down here this 
instant. Tell him to hurry. 

(The Woman starts up — stops at seeing Paul at 
top of stairs.) 

Woman. He is coming. Remember he is' your 



40 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

son. (Paul starts dozvn stairs) Remember Blen- 
heim. The sins of the fathers. (Crosses up to 
zmndow) 

Paul. {Enters dozvn the stairs and appears at 
c. entrance in bathrobe) Well 

Bradshaw. (Behind desk) Come here. 

Paul. What's up? Can't you let me finish 
dressing. (Coining dozim he glances at Woman 
zvho turns and starts to exit through arch) Hello, 
when did you enter the family circle? 

Woman. Only a few hours ago. Or was it a few 
years? (She glances at Bradshaw) I have quite 
forgotten. (She exits up r.) 

Paul. That's pretty fresh. (Coining dozvn fat- 
ing his father) Well ? 

Bradshaw. (Attempting to control his temper) 
My boy, you have been found out. 

Paul. (Suspecting the truth) Found out, what 
do you mean, found out? 

Bradshaw. The bank. 

Paul. The bank? 

Bradshaw. The investigation was last night. 

Paul. (Putting on brave front) Investigation. 
What investigation? 

Bradshaw. The investigation of your books. 

Paul. My books. There's nothing the matter 
with my books. (Crosses to desk) 

Bradshaw. My boy, it's no use. Perkins is in 
the bank now. 

Paul. Perkins! Then the jig's up. 

Bradshaw. You mean that you are guilty? 

Paul. I mean that I am short. I meant to put it 
back. God knows I meant to make it good. 

Bradshaw. (Bitterly) You meant to. You 
meant to! It doesn't matter now what you meant 
to do. 

Paul. How much did they find? 

Bradshaw. You ought to know. How much 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 41 

IS it? 

Paul. About six thousand, I think. (Sits in 
chair r. of desk) 

Bradshaw. Why didn't you tell me before it 
came to this? 

Paul. I couldn't ! I was afraid to tell you. 

Bradshaw. Where's the money gone? 

Paul. I've spent it! 

Bradshaw. Gambling? 

Paul. No. 

Bradshaw. How then? 

Paul. Pve spent it, that's all. 

Bradshaw. You won't say? Are you ashamed 
to tell me how you spent this money? 

Paul. Perhaps. 

Bradshaw. Then Pll tell you. I heard, but I 
wouldn't believe. You spent it on a woman — a 
married woman 

Paul. (Rising in great fear) It's a lie! 

Bradshaw. A woman on Orchard Street. 

Paul. (Backing up) Who told you this? 

Bradshaw. It's true then! 

Paul. (Goaded into defiance) Yes it's true. 
And now that you know, what are you going to do 
about it? 

Bradshaw. You must give this woman up. 

Paul. (Turning and crossing to R.) I'll never 
give her up. 

Bradshaw. (Crosses around desk to c.) When 
you're in jail, you may change your mind. 

Paul. (Coming back to c.) Dad! You 
wouldn't let me go there. You wouldn't dare. 
Your own pride and position. Besides you know 
it would kill mother. 

Bradshaw. (Weakening) If I save you at all, 
it'll be for her. But you must promise to give this 
woman up. (Crosses to r. c.) 



42 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Paul. Never! I'll marry Ruth just as soon as 
she's free. (Crossing to L.) 

Bradshaw. (Crossing to l. c.) Ruth! Is her 
name Ruth? 

Paul. Why yes. 

Woman. (Entering suddenly from up r.) Did 
you call ? 

Bradshaw. (Without looking at her) No. 

Woman. I thought I heard someone call rny 
name. 

Bradshaw. (Crossing to c. mid staring at her) 
Your name? Is your name Ruth? 

Woman. Yes. 

Bradshaw. (Falls back stunned by the strange 
coincidence. Both Paul and Woman rush to him 
thinking he has fainted. He waves them both aside. 
He speaks to Paul and crosses shakily to door dozvn 
R. as he is speaking) You stay here. Don't come 
to the bank. I'll go down with Bellamy. — He's here 
waiting now. — He'll help me hush the thing up — 
and I'll see what can be done. Meanwhile — say 
nothing to anyone and stay right here in the house. 

Paul. (Crossing quickly to r.) Was it Bel- 
lamy that told you about the money? 

Bradshaw. (At door) Yes. 

Paul. And about the other. 

Bradshaw. No. 

Paul. Well then where did you hear about — 
(Bradshaw zvho has opened the door to admit Bel- 
lamy turns and his eyes rest on Woman. He 
crosses to arch. Paul gives Woman a glance as 
Bellamy comes through door. To Bellamy) 
This is bad business, old man. (Bellamy crosses 
to Paul and takes his hand) Try to keep it under 
cover for me, will you? 

Bellamy. I'll do my best. You know that. 

Bradshaw. (From center of arch) Coming 
Bellamy ? 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 43 

Bellamy. Yes, right with you, Mr. Bradshaw. 
{He exits through arch and out street door, Mr. 
Bradshaw follozving him with his eyes still on the 
Woman as he crosses porch. Paul goes up to 
arch and zvatches them off. Woman watches Paul) 

Paul. (Coming down and seeing Woman look- 
ing at him) What are you looking so keen about — 
maybe you know who told him all this stuff. 

Woman. Yes, I know. 

Paul. You know, then who was it? 

Woman. I told him. 

Paul. {Turning on the Woman tiger ously, and 
crossing to c.) You told him! 

Woman. Yes, I told him. 

Paul. What business have you butting into my 
affairs. Who are you anyhow? 

Woman. I am the housemaid. 

Paul. I know that, but who are you? I never 
saw you before in my life. 

Woman. Are you sure? 

Paul. Yes. 

Woman. Yes? 

Paul. {Hesitating, with a step hack) You do 
look familiar at that. I have seen you somewhere. 

Woman. You think so? — now? 

Paul. Yes, I think so. But that don't tell me 
why you go blabbing to my father. {Crossing to 
Woman) I could kill you for that, you- 

(Woman crosses down l.) 

Bess. {Off-stage) Paul! {Enters through 
arch from up r. and crosses to Paul) Mother has 
been calling and calling you for breakfast. {See- 
ing the dressing gozvn) What in the world are you 
doing down here in that rig? 

Paul. {Forcing a sinile) Why, I was just talk- 
ing to father. {He looks at Woman as though 



44 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

captioning her to keep the nezvs from his sister, and 
exits quickly through door dozvn r.) 

Bess. (Bewildered) What's come over every- 
one this morning? (She crosses quickly to windozv 
up L. and looks out into the street) 

Woman. Are you expecting someone? 

Bess. {Startled, coming dozvn) No, what 
makes you ask? 

Woman. I thought you were. 

Bess. {Petulantly) When did you come here? 

Woman. {Crossing to r.) Last night. 

Bess. Who employed you? Mother said noth- 
ing about it. 

Woman. Your father. 

Bess. That's funny. When did father begin 
hiring maids? 

Woman. {Arranging books on table R. c.) He 
hked my references. 

Bess. You've worked somewhere in the neigh- 
borhood haven't you? Your face looks familiar. 
What are your duties ? 

Woman. Housemaid. 

Bess. Where's Susie going? 

Woman. She's not going. She is to stay, I be- 
lieve. 

Bess. {With sarcasm) Both of you? Indeed, 
what extravagance. {There is a lozv zvhistle off- 
stage. Bess turns and crosses again to windozv up 
L. She signals to someone to come in. Then 
crosses dozvn l. c.) Better open the door for Mr. 
Macy. 

(Macy crosses porch to street door.) 

Woman. Then you were expecting someone ? 

Bess. You're impertinent. Go to the door. 
(Woman exits to street door and admits Macy. 
He hands her his hat and stick, then seeing Bess 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 45 

crosses quickly to her as though to embrace her. 
She stops him zvith a gesture. Woman stands in 
the arch) You may go. (Woman exits up ». 
Macy zvatches her off then crosses to Bess, takes 
her in his arms and kisses her) 

Macy. { After Woman has gone) Now! 

Bess. I don't know why I should let you do 
this, but somehow when I am with you, I seem to 
lose my self-control. I never felt so before. 
{Crosses to r.) 

Macy. Never? {Crosses to r. c.) 

Bess. No, not like this. What can it be? 

Macy. My dear, it's the sweetest thing in the 
world. It's love. 

Bess. I'm not sure. I'm afraid. 

Macy. Afraid of me? 

Bess. {Sitting on bench) Yes, and of myself. 

Macy. {Sitting on bench) You mean you don't 
trust me? 

Bess. You know I trust you, but still. I'm 
afraid. 

Macy. You don't mean that you've changed 
your mind? 

Bess. About going away ? 

Macy. Yes. 

Bess. I have changed my mind, I think. 

Macy. After your promise last night? 

Bess. But Arnold, I know nothing about you. 

Macy. You know that I have been on the best 
business terms with your father for years. 

Bess. Yes, but about yourself. 

Macy. Well, iook at me. Fairly prepossessing. 
My family, one of the best in Manchester, and as 
for money 

Bess. You know I don't mean that. 

Macy. Then just what do you mean? 

Bess. Yourself — your life — your love affairs. 
Oh, I'm not silly enough to think you haven't had 



46 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

them. 

Macy. Well, yes. But no real ones. This is my 
first real love. And you? 

Bess. You know well enough what my life has 
been in this cloister. Sometimes I think I shall 
just scream with the tameness of it all. 

Macy. But you've had Bellamy. You've loved 
him, haven't you? 

Bess. I thous^ht so, until you came. Then he 
bored me with his big ideas, and Httle pecks of 
kisses. 

Macy. (Taking Bess by the arms and kissing 
her) Then you'll come? 

Bess. Yes ! 

Macy. Right away? 

Bess. Yes, if it is to be, the sooner the better. 
{They both rise) 

Macy. Can you get ready in an hour? 

Bess. I think so, but I can only take a few 
things. 

Macy. A few is all you'll need. 

Bess. How can I ever break it to mother? 

Macy. We'll write to her. Or better still leave 
a note to be delivered after we are safely out of 
the way. Will you do that? 

Bess. Yes! It will be terrible, but I'll do it. 

Macy. {Looking around cautiously) Good. 
Now listen. {Consults watch) It is almost ten 
o'clock. At quarter to eleven, slip out of the house 
and walk to the corner. I'll be waiting there with 
an auto. We'll just be in time to catch a train for 
the East. 

Bess. But father will follow us. I think he 
would kill us both if he caught us. 

Macy. {Taking Bess in his arms again) Let 
him follow. He will never get us. We will take 
the N. Y. Central to Albany, jump right on to Mon- 
treal and from there take the boat to-morrow night 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 47 

for England. Once on board, we can laugh at all 
of them, 

Bess. {Apprehensively) And our marriage. 

Macy. (Hesitatmgly) Well, j — j — just as 
quickly as it can be arranged. Now, you won't fail 
me? 

(Blanche Dumond crosses porch, to street door.) 

Bess. No. 

Macy. You promise? 

Bess. I promise. (Door bell rings, as Macy 
and Bess kiss. They break apart. Macy crosses 
to L. Bess crosses to r. Both zvatching arch as 
Woman crosses from up r. to street door, admit- 
ting Blanche Dumond. She presents card to 
Woman zvho stands c. arch and ivaves her off up- 
per R. Bess up r.) Who is that? 

Woman. A woman to see your mother, 

Bess. What is her name? 

Woman. {Consulting card) This gives her 
name as Blanche Dumond. 

Bess. Blanche Dumond ! 

Macy. {Dowh-l.) Why, anything wrong ? 

Bess. {Up c.) No, nothing. {To Woman) 
Did mother know who it was? 

Woman. Your mother was expecting her. 

Macy. {Formally) Well, I'll look in on you 
again. Miss Bradshaw. Good morning. 

Bess. {To Woman) Get Mr. Macy's things. 

(Woman exits up r.) 

Macy. {Crossing hurriedly to Bess «/> c.) You 
won't disappoint me? 
Bess. No. 

Macy. In an hour, remember. 
Bess. I'll be there. (Bess runs quickly up the 



48 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

stairs. Macy turns and crosses down l. c. zvith a 
smile of satisfaction. Woman enters from tip r. 
with Macy's hat and stick and comes down c. 
Macy turns to exit, he is stopped by look on 
Woman's face) 

Macy. By Jove, where have I seen you before? 

Woman. In Paris, perhaps. 

Macy. Paris ? 

Woman. Or Berlin. 

Macy. (Wonderingly) Berlin? 

Woman. Or Moscow. 

Macy. Now you're joking. 

Woman. No indeed, I have travelled much. 

Macy. I've travelled too, but 

Woman. So it is likely that we have met before. 

Macy. It is hardly probable, but you do look 
deucedly familiar, somehow. Well, I'm off. (He 
reaches for his hat and stick and moves as if to 
leave) 

Woman. (Holding his hat and stick aside) 
When is she going? 

Macy. (Startled) What do you mean? 

Woman. When is she going? Is it to-day or 
to-morrow ? 

Macy. So you've overheard, you eaves-dropping 
devil. I've a good mind to — (Takes a step toward 
her) 

Woman. (Unmoved) Poor girl, she doesn't 
know. 

Macy. Know about what? 

Woman. About your wife and children in 
Southampton. 

Macy. (Completely taken off his feet) How do 
you know that? 

Woman. I told you it is likely that we have met 
before. 

Macy. It's a lie. I have no wife. 

Woman. A lie? (She smiles) 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 49 

Macy. (Seeing it is useless to deny it) Now 
see here, are you going to give me away or not? 

Woman. What would be the use. Would she 
believe me, I wonder. (Crosses dozvn l.) 

Macy. Of course not. It would be your word 
against mine and you have no proof. Besides— 
(Crosses to l. c.) 

Woman. Besides — she loves you, you think. 

Macv. I daresay she does. But here, I see you 
are the right sort' after all. (Getting chtimmyy 
Did you say you saw me in Paris? 

Woman. I said I was in Paris. 

Macy. How long ago ? 

Woman. Was it ten yenrs or longer? 

Macy. (Taking a step back and regarding her 
curiously) Strange. 

Woman. St range ? 

Macy. There's something about you that reminds 
me of 

Woman. Of the little girl you deserted at St. 
Cloud. 

Macy. By God, how do you know that? 

Woman. Perhaps, I only dreamed it. 

Macy. (hi a hoarse zvhisper) Say, — who — ■ 
are — you ? 

Woman. An old friend and your very humble 
servant. (Hands him hat and stick) 

Macy. And now are you going to tip this off or 
not? 

Woman. I will — unless 

Macy. Unless what? 

Woman. Unless you promise to leave town and 
let this girl alone. 

Macy. (Relieved) I'll promise that, all right. 

Woman. You'll not see her again? 

Macy. No. 

Woman. Or write to her ? 

Macy. No, on the level. And you? You are 



50 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 
sure you'll- 



WoMAN. Quite sure. Unless you break your 
word. 

Macy. On your honor? 

Woman. (With a bitter smile) Honor? On 
my honor. (Macy, a mystified expression on his 
face, turns and exits hurriedly through arch and 
out street door. He passes Smollet and Bascomb 
on porch. They enter and come down c. Woman 
doxim L.) 

Smollet. Is Mr. Bradshaw in? 

Woman. Not now, but he left word that he 
would be back presently. (Woman crosses up c.) 

Smollet. Thank you. 

Woman. Mrs. Bradshaw is engaged in the liv- 
ing room. Would you mind waiting here in the 
library ? 

Smollet. Not at all. (Woman takes Smol- 
let's hat) Thank you. 

(Woman takes Bascomb's hat.) 

Bascomb. Thank you. 

Woman. {Indicating chairs) Won't you be 
seated ? 

Smollet. {Seating himself down r. c. on bench) 
Thank you again. 

Bascomb. {Standing c.) Very kind, Vvn sure. 

Woman. I'm quite sure Mr. Bradshaw will re- 
turn shortly. Meanwhile, if there's anything, kindly 
ring. 

Smollet. Thank you. 

Bascomb. Thank you. (Woman exits up r. 
Bascomb struts up to arch and zvatches Woman 
down hall. Turns and comes down c.) Rather at- 
tractive young person. 

Smollet. Very pleasant too. 

Bascomb. {Coming down) Something of a 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 51 

beauty, I should say, SmoUet. Are you anything 
of a connoisseur of these matters? 

Smollet. Hardly, I'll leave that to your judicial 
discretion. 

Bascomb. I'm afraid I am prejudicial where 
pretty women are concerned. As for discretion 
well that comes with years. And you know I am 
still in my early twenties. 

Smollet. Yes, you're getting younger every day. 

Bascomb. Hardly that. But I hope the time will 
never come when I can't admire a pretty face — or — 
or figure. 

Smollet. Amen! (They both laugh) 

Bascomb. (Goes up c.) This one looks fa- 
miliar. I've seen her somewhere, I think. 

Smollet. (.^eeusingly) Indeed! 

Bascomb. (Coming down c. Confused) Some 
other home. I mean. She's simply a house maid, 
i'^n't she ? Vv' ell it shows how much confidence Mrs. 
Bradshaw has in her husband, having such pretty 
girls about. Now my wife — well, that's another 
story. (Crossing to L. They both laugh again) 
Pleasant place Bradshaw has here. 

Smollet. Very, very pleasant, indeed. 

Bascomb. (Going around desk) Well, he de- 
serves it. He's what I call a self-made man, if 
there ever was one. Full of real American stuff. 
Has the courage of his convictions too. This proves 
that. (He indicates front page article in netvs- 
paper zvhich he carries) 

Smollet. Genuinely successful. I'd call him. 
Plenty of money, which he earned for himself. A 
fine family. Wife any man would be proud of. 
beautiful daughter and promising son. 

Bascomb. Seems to have achieved happiness if 
there is any such commodity in this world. 

Smollet. And a God-fearing, charitable citizen. 



52 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

(Bradshaw and Bellamy cross porch.) 

Bascomb. Let us hope that God will not play 
the trick on him he did on our old friend Job. 

Smollet. Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth. 
(Bradshaw enters hurriedly through arch, Bel- 
lamy follozvs him. Bradshaw comes down c. 
Bellamy goes around desk to chair dozvn l.) Ah! 
Brother Bradshaw. 

Bradshaw. Well, gentlemen ! Smollet, I'm glad 
to see you. Judge, it's good of you to come. You 
know Mr. Bellamy of The Star? A friend of 
Paul's. 

(Both nod to Bellamy.) 

Bascomb. (To Bradshaw) We came over to 
congratulate you on this. (He indicates article in 
paper) 

Smollet. It's splendid. The whole town is talk- 
ing about it. 

Bascomb. It has the right ring to it. 

Bradshaw. I said what I believed to be the 
truth. Rev. Smollet and I discussed it last night. 
Since then, I have wondered if I shouldn't have 
modified it in one or two particulars. 

Smollet. Certainly not. It's the climax; th- 
top-sheaf of our campaign. 

Bascomb. It's the last gun in our fight against 
legalized prostitution, and we are all proud to have 
fought under so gallant a captain. (Bascomb 
bozvs and sits in chair l. c.) 

(Smollet sits in chair r. c.) 

Bradshaw. Gentlemen, you overwhelm me. I 
hope that we have acted wisely. And now if you'll 
excuse me, I want to have a word with mv son 
(Starts to cross r.) 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 53 

Smollet. Perhaps we had better be going. {He 
starts to rise) 

Bradshaw. Please don't. Pll only be a moment. 
I think he is in here somewhere. {Crosses to door 
R.) Ah! Paul. {Exits through door) 

Bascomb. What did he mean by saying " I hope 
we have acted wisely ? " Can there be any doubt 
of it? 

Bellamy. {At chair down l.) Evidently Mr. 
Bradshaw is beginning to think so. Has it occurred 
to you gentlemen, that there are two sides to this 
question ? 

Bascomb. Two sides to what question? 

Bellamy. To the tenderloin question? 

Bascomb. Two sides. Sure two sides, the right 
side and the wrong side. 

Bellamy. {With a light laugh) Just that. 
There are a lot of people of intelligence, doctors 
amonf^ them, and certainly many mothers, who be- 
lieve that all this has been a big mistake. {He indi- 
cates nezvspaper ivhich Bascomb holds) 

Smollet. {Rising) You're assuredly not one 
of them, Mr. Bellamy? 

Bellamy. Pm not so certain about it. {Cross- 
ing to c.) In my business I get a pretty good slant 
at both sides. You know, don't you, that these 
women are not leaving town. They are merely 
scattering. Lots of people are hollering to the po- 
lice already because their neighborhoods are being 
invaded. 

Bascomb. {Laughing heartily) Hollering? Let 
'em holler, eh, Smollet? 

Smollet. Well, I hope what Mr. Bellamy says 
is not altogether true. The chief of police assures 
me that most of the women will be forced out of 
the town. 

Bellamy. That's probably what the Chief hopes. 
(Bradshaw enters through door dozvn r.) But 



54 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

I'll bet he knows better. {Crosses to Bradshaw up 
R. Smollet crosses to Bascomb l. c.) 

Bradshaw. {Aside to Bellamy) It's all right. 
Paul has agreed to go away. Now you'll do your 
part, won't you? 

Bellamy. I sure will. I know how to pull the 
strings to keep the whole thing out of print. Good- 
bye. {They shake hands) 

Bradshaw. Good-bye and thank you. (Brad- 
shaw crosises up to arch) 

Bellamy. {Coming down c.) Well, good 
morning, gentlemen. I'm sorry w^e can't prolong 
the argument. (Smollet crosses to r. c.) I have 
facts up my sleeve that would amaze you. 

Bascomb. {Banteringly) You newspaper men 
are a menace to the community, 

Bellamy. Except when you're running for 
office, eh Judge? Or when good Samaritans like 
Mr. Smollet need publicity for their New Year's 
Eve Grill-room Crusades, eh Reverend? Well, 
good morning. {He exits though arch and out 
street door) 

Smollet. He's a precocious young fellow. 

Bascomb. {Rising) Precocious? He is posi- 
tively pestiferous. (Bradshaw comes dozvn) He's 
been actually telling us, Bradshaw, that we've made 
a mistake in this whole campaign. — Gleason and 
all. 

Bradshaw. We have made no mistake gentle- 
men, I hope. {Crosses down l.) But certain 
things have happened that make me wish I had not 
taken such a prominent part in it. I had a great 
sorrow come to me last night and to-day I have had 
another. {Crosses to back of desk) Together 
they seem greater than I can bear. 

Smollet. Why, my dear friend, I never dreamt 
that anything had happened. 

Bascomb. I'm sorry to hear you say this. Only 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 55 



a moment ago 

Martha. {Entering from up r. followed by 
Blanche Dumond, they move tozvard outside door 
then pause, confer a moment and then come dozvn) 
May I interrupt your conference to introduce some- 
one whom I daresay has a very vital interest in 
it? Gentlemen, this is Miss Dumond. (Pause) 
Miss Dumond, my husband. 

Dumond. {Up r. c.) How do you do? {Nod- 
ding at Bradshaw) 

Bradshaw. {Stifflv. Dozvn l.) How do you 
do. 

Martha. {Up l. c.) This is Reverend Smol- 
let. {Pause. Smollet bozvs coldly) And this 
is Judge Bascomb. 

Bascomb. {Advancing) I am pleased to know 
you, Madame er — Miss. 

Martha. {Embarrassed and crossing to chair 
L. c.) Miss Dumond promised that she would come 
and tell me about that poor girl I spoke of. 

Bradshaw. Indeed ! 

Martha. {To Miss Dumond) Won't you sit 
down? 

Dumond. {Sits in chair r. c.) Yes, it all turned 
out splendidly. Her father came from down state, 
forgave her and took her back home. 

(Mrs. Bradshaw arranges chair and sits l. c.) 

Bradshaw. Tm very glad to hear it. {He sits 
in chair dozvn L. Smollet sits on bench) 

Dumond. We were all very happy about it. It 
was a pathetic case. We were so glad to have 
been able to help her. 

Martha. Miss Dumond has just been telling 
me that she is about to leave the city. 

Smollet. Indeed? 

Dumond. Yes. In the light of recent events, 



56 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

I think it better, don't you? 

Smollet. Undoubtedly you are acting wisely. 

DuMOND. I think so. At least for the present. 

Bascomb. (Comes down l. c. with chair and 
sits) May I be so bold as to inquire where you pro- 
pose locating? 

DuMOND. Most certainly. I have bought a very 
attractive country place near Sedgwick, only a few 
miles west of town. I shall raise lots of chickens, 
(Pause) and serve dinners to automobile parties. 

Bascomb. I see. They call it a roadhouse, don't 
they? 

DuMOND. That's it. May I count on your pa- 
tronage, judge? 

Bascomb. (Raising his hand protestingly) Oh, 
my dear woman 

DuMOND. (Smiling) Yes, I see perfectly. 

Smollet. I trust that you will be glad to get 
into new fields. — That is out of your old environ- 
ment. 

Dumond. Personally, I shall be glad, though of 
course I can't speak for the others. And person- 
ally, I trust that you men are acting wisely, al- 
though, as I have already told Mrs. Bradshaw, I 
have my serious doubts. 

Smollet. It is because women like you feel 
that we are wrong, that makes us so certain that 
we are right. 

Dumond. (With winning smile) Now isn't 
that a little unkind, Reverend Smollet ? You should 
be generous enough to believe that my doubts are 
based on considerations other than my own private 
interests. 

Smollet. And these considerations, may I ask, 
what they are? 

Dumond. The facts of thousands of years of 
experimenting in just this sort of thing. 

Bascomb. Experimenting, indeed! (He moves 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 57 

his chair a little closer) 

DuMOND. Experimenting' — just that. Experi- 
menting in ways and means to do away with the 
so-called social evil. Now you're a well read man, 
Jud^e, and you know that in the classic civilizations 
of Greece and Rome the Courtesans were accepted 
as a prominent factor in the social organization. To 
serve in the Temple of Venus in those days was an 
exalted cal^inc^. Reverend Smodet knows that the 
Bible is filled with stories of concubinage, illicit 
loves and crimes of lust and coming down to later 
days, I find in the history of New England that our 
own virgin country was overcrowded with prosti- 
tutes as far back as 1630. It looks as though some 
of the sly old Puritans had smuggled some of their 
English '" Cousins " over in the Mayflower. Oh, 
I've been reading a lot on this subject lately. 

Smollet. And your conclusion is 

DuMOND. My conclusion is that if it were pos- 
sible to stop prostitution, it would have been stopped 
long ago. And in my humble opinion it can never 
be stopped, until we change human nature. And I 
hardly think we can do that. 

Bascomb. {Leaning fozvards Dumond) No — 
hardly — (Shaking his head) 

Dumond. {To Bascomb) And — You'll par- 
don me 

Bascomb. Oh that's all right. Go right ahead. 
Go right ahead. 

Dumond. And so if you'll grant that the ele- 
mental things in human nature can't be changed to 
any great extent, you must agree that it is absolutely 
impossible to stamp out the sins that arise from 
these natural impulses. Now these two facts ad- 
mitted, the only thing left to decide is whether it is 
better for a city to set apart a district where all 
women who elect to lead this historic calling — must 
reside, or, do as you are now doing, wipe out such a 



58 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

district and drive its residents to all other parts of 
the city. I'm on one side of that question and you're 
on the other, so there is no more to be said. {She 
rises) 

(They all rise except Bradshaw.) 

Smollet. {Standing down r.) And have you 
no sense of shame for the part that you have played 
— no desire to lead a good life? 

DuMOND. Possibly. But I'm like a lot of your 
parishoners, always putting it off until to-morrow. 

(Bascomb hacks up c. with chair.) 

Smollet. {Sharply) But the stigma of it. I 
should think you would blush to be abroad in the 
daylight. 

buMOND. Blush? Indeed, I am glad not to have 
forgotten how. I am blushing now for you. Rev- 
erend Smollet, that you so far forget your gallantry, 

Smollet. You may spare your blushes, if they 
are for me. Miss Dumond. I have no gallantries 
for women of your — profession. 

DuMOND. {Banteringly) You may insult me, 
Reverend vSmollet, but do not slander my — profes- 
sion. It is the oldest in the world. It's older than 
history itself. It's as old as mythology. Venus, 
(The Aphrodite of the Greeks) was its goddess, 
and temples have been raised to her in all the ages. 
History is filled with the names of her illustriousde- 
votees. 

Smollet. Illustrious! {He sniffs contemptu- 
ously) 

DuMOND. Illustrious, yes. Names that have 
changed the map of the world — women's names — 
disciples of Aphrodite! 

Smollet. {Turning sharply) What names? 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 59 

DuMOND. Well, an old friend of our school-book 
days, Helen of Troy, is one. 

Smollet. a myth like your Aphrodite. 

DuMOND. Possibly. But Cleopatra was real, 
wasn't she ? I believe Marc Anthony found her so. 
And Aspasia, the classic mistress of Pericles; Lais 
who held the keys to the Eleusinian mysteries; 
Phryne, the model of Praxitiles ; Du Barry and 
Pompadour, Katherine of Russia, makers and 
wreckers of thrones. That choice spirit of her day 
Lola Montez — Nell Gwynn, the pet of princes — 
Ninon De L' Enclos 

Sm'ollet. a brilliant constellation! Haven't 
you omitted Camille? 

DuMOND. {Smiling szveetly) I was just coming 
to her when you interrupted. 

Smollet. Pooh! {He makes a deprecatory ges- 
ture and turns from her as though tired of the ar- 
gument, walks up and dozvn r.) 

Bascomb. {Gallantly coming dozvn c.) Permit 
me to remark, Madame, that while I cannot agree 
with you I must observe that you are a woman of 
education and — er — refinement. 

DuMOND. Thank you so much. I have had many 
advantages. My story might interest you, (Bas- 
comb leans forzvard) but it's a little 100 long to lC'! 
to-day. Now when you come to my farm, perhaps — 
{The Judge lifts his hand protestingly) Oh, don't 
be afraid. I have entertained in my home, men oc- 
cupying the highest social positions. 

Bascomb. I dare say. I dare say. {Turns and 
crosses up c.) 

DuMOND. {Crossing to Mrs. Bradshaw down 
L. c.) Thank you for allowing me to come. 

Martha. We shall all be interested to hear how 
you get on in your — your new field. {Crosses up 
to arch) 

DuMOND. Thank you. I shall keep you informed. 



6o THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

(To Bradshaw) Good day. (Turns and goes 
up c.) I have my car at the door if either of you 
gentlemen wish to go over town. 

Smollet. (Sharply) Thank you. We have an 
appointment. 

DuMOND. (Up R. c.) Oh don't be afraid. It*s 
a closed car. 

Bascomb. (Doz^'Ji L. c.) Our engagement is with 
Mr. Gleason. 

DuMOND. Mr. Gleason. I'm so sorry not to 
have had the pleasure of meeting him. I have so 
much enjoyed his sermons. 

Smollet. I'm glad to hear you say that, at 
least. 

DuMOND. Yes, they are really edifying. They 
add so much to one's vocabulary of slang. Good 
morning. (To Smollet) 

Smollet. Good-bye. 

BascozvIB. Good morning. 

DuMOND. Au Revoir. (Dumond exits through 
street door. Bascomb crosses to window and 
watches her off. Mrs. Bradshaw lets her out and 
closes street door. Comes back to c. of arch) 

Martha. You'll excuse me. 

vSmollet. Certainly. 

(They bozv. Mrs. Bradshaw exits up the stairs.) 

Bradshaw. So that's the notorious Blanche Du- 
mond. I've been sitting here trying to figure her 
©ut. 

Bascomb. Well, what do you make of her? 
Rather an unusual woman I should say. 

Bradshaw. She upsets a lot of my ideas. She's 
so different from what I had imagined. 

Smollet. That's what makes women of her type 
so dangerous. She wears a veneer of culture and 
gentility — and beneath it is 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 6i 

Bradshaw. (Rather sharply) Is what? 

Smollet. Poof ! (A little cry of disgust. When 
properly done one of the best laughs in the play) 

Bradshaw. I imagine that after all she is a good 
deal like other women. No doubt she has her own 
ideas of honesty? If we knew more about her, 
we could judge her better. 

Smollet. (Consulting ivatch) You know we 
mustn't keep Gleason waiting. This is to be the 
final meeting of the Committee. Let's hurry, gen- 
tlemen. (Crosses uP to arc/i) 

Bradshaw. (Rising and crossing to arch) I'll 
walk over with you. but only for a moment 

(Bascomb stands doivn l. c.) 

Bascomb. Chicken farm. (He chuckles) 

Bradshaw. (From arch) Coming Judge? 

Bascomb. Yes, yes. (To himself) Chicken 
farm. (He goes up and the three men exit ad 
lib. through street door. Bess comes dozvn the 
stairs glancing around luith a nervous expression 
on her face. She has changed her dress to suit. 
She crosses quickly to chair at right of desk, sits 
and writes note. Woman enters from r. and crosses 
dozvn l. c, stands unobserved. Bess finishes note, 
rises, turns and starts guiltily) 

Bess. Oh, it's you is it ? Spying on me as usual. 

Woman. I wasn't spying on you. You wanted 
me didn't you? 

Bess. No, I didn't want you, but since you are 
here, you may give this note to my mother. 

Woman. You see you did want me, after all. 

Bess. Give this to my mother in fifteen minutes. 
Exactly eleven o'clock. Not a minute before. You 
understand ? 

Woman. (Ignoring the note) At eleven? Do 



(>2 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

you think you will be safely away by then? 

Bess. I'm not going away. This note is about 
something else. 

Woman. If he really cared for you, do you 
think he would ask you to do a thing like this? 

Bess. So you have been spying. He does care. 
What business is it of yours, anyway? 

The Woman. It's any woman's business when 
some girl is about to make a big mistake. 

Bess. You've found out so much, why didn't 
you listen a little longer and you would know that 
we are to be married and I'm not making any mis- 
take at all. 

The Woman. And you believe that? You 
think that he will marry you. 

Bess. {Attempting to pass) Of course he will. 
He's promised. 

The Woman. (Seeking to detain her) Prom- 
ised ! I'd hoped you'd listen. You're young and 
he — well he is so much older — so much more of 
the world. I am afraid 

Bess. You're not paid to give advice. Do you 
think I'm a child to 

The Woman. Ah, that's it. You are a child 
and I — Wont you listen, please. 

Bess. {Passing her) No, no matter what you'd 
say, I'd not believe you. 

The Woman. Of course you wouldn't. My 
dear, since the world began, nobody's experiences 
have been worth anything to anybody else. (Bess 
exits still carrying note) And that's the pity of it ! 
(The Woman goes up as if to exit. Paul enters 
suddenly through door down r. He carries a suit- 
case, his hat and light overcoat) 

Paul. {Down r.) Say you! I'm going to fix 
you for tipping father off to that little affair of mine. 

Woman. {Up c.) Fix me? How? 

Paul. I'll have you fired. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 63 

Woman. You mean discharged? 

Paul. Yes, I mean discharged. 

Woman. When. Before you go to prison, or 
after? 

Paul. That's pretty fresh. Pm not going to 
serve any time. 

Woman. Then your father 

Paul. Yes, the governor has squared it. 

Woman. And the bank 

Paul. Will not prosecute, thank you. It's 
tickled to death to get back the coin. 

Woman. And your position? 

Paul. Position? It wasn't a position. It was 
a job. I'm glad to get an excuse to take a little 
vacation. (Crosses to l. c.) 

Woman. Then you're going away? 

Paul. Yes, the governor thinks it best for me 
to take a little trip until this blows over. 

Woman. A trip? And the woman. Is she go- 
ing with you? 

Paul. I guess she's not. Do you suppose the 
governor would stand for that? He has made me 
promise to pass her up. 

Woman. You are going to leave her? 

Paul. Flat. (Sits in chair l. c.) 

Woman. And you're not sorry. 

Paul. Sure, I'm sorry. She's a good sort. But 
where do I get off if I stick to her? I've got to 
look after No. i haven't I ? 

Woman. But she really cares for you. 

Paul. Of course she does, — naturally. But 
don't you see I have no choice? The governor 
said nix, and made me take all kinds of pirate oaths 
before he'd loosen up. 

Woman. (Crossing to c.) You mean he 
wouldn't pay the money unless you promised? 

Paul. That's the big idea. 



64 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Woman. And the woman, what's to become of 
her? 

Paul. What's that to me? {Rises and crosses 
to R.) She can win another home. With her looks 
and figure, it's a cinch. 

Woman. (Crossing to Paul) And yet she gave 
up everything for you, didn't she ? 

Paul. If you call that boob of a husband every- 
thing — yes. 

Woman. But she gave up her friends. (Bess 
starts down the stairs with travelling bag) Her 
respectability, her good name. And she was a good 
woman until you came into her life, wasn't she? 

Paul. Oh, I suppose so. But what's the idea? 
Why are you — (Crossing to Woman c.) Say, you've 
got a nerve to pull this kind of talk with me. — Cut 
it. (Crosses to r. c, takes out cigarette. Bess 
crosses porch as Woman turns from Paul and sees 
her. Woman crosses up to window and watches 
Bess ojf, indicating her sorrow) 

Paul. (Crosses to door dozvn r. Picks up suitcase, 
coat and hat and starts to exit, he sizes up Woman 
standing in zvindoiv and stops, puts down suitcase, 
coat and hat up r. c.) Say, by the way 

Woman. (Still in window) Yes ? 

Paul. (Up r. c.) There's nothing in my deal 
with the old man that says I can't have another girl. 

Woman. Indeed ! 

Paul. The idea just hit me. You know I've 
got a big bundle of money and my only instructions 
are to beat it until this bank thing blows over. 
There's nothing in my sailing orders that says I 
can't take a companion with me. (Woman comes 
dozvn and Paul takes a step towards her) What do 
you say to a little honeymoon at French Lick? 
What do you say? 

Woman. (Coming to Paul c.) Honeymoon? 

Paul. Yes ! 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 65 

Woman. Are you asking me to marry you? 

Paul. Marry you? Certainly not. You get 
me don't you? A little trip to French Lick, just 
you and me. Come on, you'll not be sorry. 

Woman. (Crossing dozvn l.) You want me 
to go away with you? 

Paul. No, not with me. I'll beat it to-day and 
you can make your getaway to-morrow. (Woman 
crosses to l. c.) We can fix it all up in advance, 
and arrange our meeting place so there'll be no slip- 
up. Will you go? {Crossing to Woman) 

Woman. Of course not. 

Paul. Quit stalling. There is more than enough 
here for both of us. {Taps his hand on right hand, 
trousers pocket) You know you're worth it too. 
(He attempts to embrace her) 

Woman. Can't you see that I don't want you 
to do that? 

Paul. {With surprise) You don't want me 
even to kiss you? You, a servant! 

Woman. Of course not. Why should you? 
{Crossing to R.) 

Paul. (Crossing to Woman) Well I'll be — 
Who do you think you are? 

Woman. You have said, I am a servant. 

Paul. But I don't think you are. You look too 
slick to suit me. I think you're a plant here for 
some crook, that's what I think you are, and I'm 
going to put the governor next. Besides, you've 
got a wallop coming to you for spilling that stuff 
about Ruth. (Looks her over carefully) You 
know, I've got a sneaking notion I've seen you 
somewhere before. Your eyes remind me 

Woman. Oh, yes, my eyes 

Paul. They remind me of a girl- 



Otto. (Entering through door dozvn r., hnr- 
riedly) There is an officer at the side door, sir. 
Paul. (Nervously) A police officer? Who 



(^ THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

does he want to see? 

Otto. He wants to see Mr. Bradshaw. 

Paul. {To Woman c.) Maybe the governor, 
hasn't squared that thing after all {To Otto) 
Have him come in here. I'll see him. {He crosses 
to desk L. and lights cigarette. Woman crosses 
up to window. Otto exits) 

Woman. Perhaps it's about something else. 

Paul. Gad, I hope so. 

Otto. {Entering down r.) The officer, sir. 
(Burke enters and crosses to r. c. Otto exits) 

Burke. Are you Bradshaw? 

Paul. (Tryinq to put on a brave front) I am 
Mr. Bradshaw, Jr. 

Burke. Well, I guess it's your old man I ought 
to see. 

Paul. What is it about? You can tell it to me 
I guess. 

Burke. It's about a skirt you have workin' 
here. I was sent to get a line on her. {^He produces 
a blank form) 

Paul. {Obviously relieved) Oh, is that what 
you have come here for? A girl? Yes, we have 
several girls working here. What about this one? 

Burke. This 'yn come yesterday accordin' to 
6ur tip. Did you have a dame start m here yes- 
terday? 

Paul. {Glancing at Woman) Yes, I believe so. 
What about her? 

Burke. Well accordin' to this dope sheet, her 
name is Elsie Packard. {He reads) Height 5 
feet, 2 inches ; weight about 120 pounds ; hair light ; 
eyes dark ; rather good-looking ; age between twenty 
and twenty-five. 

Paul. {Thinking his suspicions about the crook 
plant are about to be realized) Yes, that descrip- 
tion fits her. What's she done ? 

Burke. It's up to me to tip you off that for the 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 67 

last few weeks she's been a regular visitor at 
houses of prostitution on West Street. (Paul 
whistles) If the Jane is here, I'd Hke to look her 
over. 

Woman. (Coming dozvn c.) I am the woman. 

Burke. Now dor^'t kid yourself you're telling 
me something. I made you the minute I lamped 
you through the door. (To Paul) You see, kid, 
we learn to know 'em by sight. 

Woman. And you never make mistakes? 

Burke. Not on cinches like this. 

Woman. And does that say why I visited the 
houses it mentions. 

Burke. It don't have to say. Don't you sup- 
pose 

Woman. Then the police do make mistakes- - 
sometimes. Well, what is it you want me to do? 

Burke. The first thing, I want to wise these 
people up to who you are. 

Woman. Yes, and after that? 

Burke. (Crossing to Woman) And after that, 
I want you to report at headquarters, just where 
you beat it to next. 

Woman. But suppose I stay here? 

Burke. Well, if you stick here, you're to kick in 
with the weekly report thing just the same. {To 
Paul) Say, she's got a swell chance of stickin' 
here once the old gent gets hep. 

Paul. No, I'm afraid not. The governor would 
have seven kinds of fits. 

Burke. (Folding up his paper, and giving the 
W^OMAN a learning look) Get this now and get 
it straight. It's little bright eyes to the station once 
a week, or we'll be backin' the wagon up for yon. 
You make me, don't you? 

Woman. I shall remember. 

Burke. (Looks in Woman's eyes and then 



68 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

nuances away mystified) How do you get out of 
here ? 

Paul. (Crossing to door dozvn R.) Just a min- 
ute. I'll show you. The same door. Can you fmd 
the way? 

Burke. Sure. Don't agitate yourself. {Cross- 
ing to door) I'll leave it to you to tip the old gent 
off. 

Paul. Sure, you can trust me to do that. 

Burke. Good morning. {He exits) 

Paul. {Closes door, turns and looks at Woman 
dozvn c.) And you wouldn't go with me to 
i'^ench Lick? 

Woman. No. 

Paul. Now will you go? 

Woman. No. 

Paul. {Arrogantly) Oh, I guess you will. 
{Crosses to Woman) You'll go or I'll tip you off 
to the old man ; you know what he thinks of girls 
in your line of business. Why, he's bossing this 
Avhole campaign right now, to put the Tenderloin 
out of commission. Gad, it's a great joke on him 
to have you here. {He laughs uproariously) Come 
on, how long will it take you to get your things 
together ? 

Woman. {Down l.) I told you I'm not going. 

Paul. {Crosses to l. c.) Forget that. Oh, 
I get you now. I see where I'm in wrong. You 
want to know how I'm going to split the bank roll 
with you? {He produces the money) Here, how 
much is your time worth? {She pulls azvay in dis- 
gust and Paul grabs her arm) No you don't. What 
are you trying to pull with me, anyway? (Brad- 
SHAW crosses porch and enters quietly, unobserved) 
I'm not a guy that takes " No " for an answer. 
Especially from your kind. A minute ago you 
wouldn't even give me a kiss and I was afraid to 
take it for fear you'd make a squawk. I guess you 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 69 

won't do any squawking now. {He takes her in his 
arms and forces her across table kissing her repeat- 
edly. Bradsiiaw comes down from arch purple 
zviih rage) 

Brads HAW. Paul ! 

Paul. (Springing away from Woman) You! 

Bradshaw. How dare you do a thing like this 
in my house. An hour ago I saved you from the 
penitentiary, saved you a thief — a common thief, 
and now I come and find this. I could forgive you 
the other but for this — this bestiaUty there is no 
forgiveness. I see you've packed your things. Now 
take them and get out. Get out and stay out. (He 
points to the door) 

Paul. But father, you don't know — you don't 
know who this woman is. 

Bradshaw. I don't care. 

Paul. (Crossing up to Bradshaw) But you 
would care if you knew. Only a minute ago a 
policeman 

Bradshaw. Will you go? Or must I put you 
out by force? (Crosses to street door and opens it) 

Paul. Father ! 

Bradshaw. Pick up that suitcase. (Paul 
obeys mechanically) Now, get out of my house, 
and as long as you live never enter it again. 

Paul. Dad ! 

Bradshaw. Go ! (Paul hesitates for an instant, 
then zvith a determined look he exits quickly out 
street door. Clock strikes eleven, Bradshaw closes 
door after Paul and comes down c. glaring at 
Woman) Is this my reward for taking you in? 
One misfortune heaped upon another. 

Woman. (Dozvn l.) And yet you wrote last 
night that our misfortunes are all of our own mak- 
ing. 

(Martha screams. Otto comes hurriedly dozmi 
the stairs to c. of arch.) 



70 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw. {To Otto) What is it? What is 
it? 

Otto. I gave her a note from your daughter, 
sir. (Otto exits) 

Bradshaw. From Bess? Why what could 

Woman, She's gone to meet him. They've 
planned to run away. It may not be too late. I 
had his promise. 

Bradshaw. With him — Macy? It is too late! 
The letter of that woman! Her evil spell is on us 
all. This house is cursed! (Martha's cries con- 
tinue) What is it Martha. Yes, I'm coming. {He 
exits up the stairs) Martha! Martha! 

Martha. Elijah! Elijah! 

Bradshaw. {Off-stage and after ominous pause) 
Martha! 

Woman. {Stands c. stage as all lights go out black 
and baby strazv from bridge hits her face; with su- 
preme compassion) The mothers! The mothers! 



ACT III 

Time : It is early evening and all the lights are lit. 

Discovered: Bradshaw and The Woman are 
discovered at rise. Bradshaw haggard and 
zvorn is seated Qn divan near fireplace, facing 
arch c. ivith his back to audience. He wears 
a long dressing gown over same clothes in first 
act. Woman stands up r. c. facing Brad- 
shaw. Window curtains are drawn. 

Bradshaw. Why do you stay? Why don't you 
leave me? All the others have gone. Why don't 
you go? 

Woman. Not yet. It is not time. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 7r 

Bradshaw. Then you are going? I thought 
so, I thought so. 

Woman. Not yet. I shall not leave you 
now. — I am sorry to disturb you, but someone 
wants to see you — Mr. Bellamy. 

Bradshaw. (Wearily) Bellamy? Oh yes, he's 
a good boy. Let him come in. (Woman Uirns to 
admit Bellamy, and., is stopped by Bradshaw) 
You're sure you're not going away? 

Woman. (Turning to Bradshaw) Not until 
you are ready to have me go. 

Bradshaw. Until I am ready? You mean that 
my own time is short? (Rises) Well, you're right. 
(Turns R. and gazes at picture) You're right. 
(Bradshaw comes dozvn r. and sits on bench r. 
c. Woi^fAN goes up and admits Bellamy. Bel- 
lamy enters through arch and comes down r. c. to 
Bradshaw) How do you do my boy, I am glad to 
see you. 

Bellamy. I think I've got some good news for 
you. 

Bradshaw. (Bitterly) Good news? Is there 
such a thing in the world? 

Bellamy. I think I have found out where your 
daughter is. 

Bradshaw. My daughter? Which daughter? I 
have no daughter. 

Bellamy. I mean your daughter Bess. 

Bradshaw. I tell you I have no daughter. 

Bellamy. Wilkins, an old Star man now on the 
Nezv York Times, has written me that he saw her 
last Tuesday in New York. 

Bradshaw. (Fiercely) With him? — Macy? 
That 

Bellamy. No, she was alone when he saw her. 
Wilkins knew we were hunting her so he followed 
her to a boarding house on 46th Street. He wrote 
me the address and yesterday I sent her a wire. 



72 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw. She answered? 

Bellamy. Not yet. Perhaps she is coming home 
instead. I told her of her mother's 

Br.\dshaw. Not here. She shan't come here. 

Bellamy. Do you mean that ? 

Bradshaw. Certainly I mean it. Do you think 
I would take her in after all she's done? Don't 
you know she killed her mother? 

Bellamy. I wouldn't say that if I were you. 

Bradshaw. But I do say it. I tell you she killed 
her as surely as though she had stabbed her to 
the heart. 

Bellamy. I am sorry. I thought you would be 
glad. 

Bradshaw. I am glad. Glad she's alive — but 
that's all. 

Bellamy. And you won't take her in? 

Bradshaw. (Rising and facing door r.) I 
won't take her in — send her word not to come. 

Bellamy. No, I'll not do that. If she comes, 
I'll take her to my mother's — if she's willing to go. 

Bradshaw. Do you mean to say you still care 
for her? — After all she's done? 

Bellamy. (With marked earnestness) Mr. 
Bradshaw, I believe a girl who has made one mis- 
take is still quite good enough for any man, and 
if she hasn't (Pause) she's too good for him. 
(Bascomb rings door bell, as Bellamy crosses to 
L. and lights cigarette at desk. Otto crosses hall 
and sees Judge Bascomb through door. Without 
admitting him, he comes down r. c.) 

Otto. Judge Bascomb to see you, sir. 

Bradshaw. That tiresome old fool. (He crosses 
to down R.) Tell him I'm not in. Tell him I'm 
sick. Tell him anything. (Turns to Bellamy) 
Bellamy, you see him for me. (Bradshaw exits 
ihroiigh door down r. Bellamy signals to Otto to 
admit Bascomb. Otto goes up, admits Bascomb 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 73 

and exits up R. Bascomb enters excitedly and 
comes dozvn c. briskly, his hat pulled down on hack 
of his head. Bellamy sits in chair r. at desk l.) 

Bascomb. Where's Bradshaw? 

Bellamy. He's too ill to see anybody. What is 
it? Anything wrong? 

Bascomb. (Walking up and dozvn v.. c.) Wrong? 
Oh, no nothing at all. Only a lot of these women 
Bradshaw's driven out of the Tenderloin have come 
and camped in a big house right next to my terrace 
on Livingston Avenue and now all my tenants are 
getting ready to move out. Hell, no, there's noth- 
ing wrong. (Bellamy laughs) Tell Bradshaw I 
v/ant to see him. That I've got to see him. (Bel- 
lamy laughs again) Funny ain't it? 

Bellamy. {Laughingly) Strikes me that way. 
What do you expect Mr. Bradshaw is going to 
do about it? 

Bascomb. Well he'd better do something and do 
it pretty sudden. He stirred up this mess, and he's 
the fellow I'm going to hold responsible. 

Bellamy. Where do you want these women to 
go? 

Bascomb. {Up c.) I don't care a tinker's dam 
where they go so long as they don't come along 
side of my property. 

Bellamy. {Laughing) It strikes me you're 
getting pretty particular about your property all of 
a sudden. If I remember right, you oivned a couple 
of houses in the old segregated district that you 
didn't mind renting to these women, at about four 
times what you could get from anybody else. 

Bascomb. I came here to talk to Bradshaw, not 
to be cross-questioned by a whipper-snapper like you. 
{Going up c.) 

Bellamy. Don't get sore. What kind of a place 
have they started on Livingston ? 

Bascomb. I don't know what you call it. All I 



74 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

know is I want it closed up. (Bellamy laughs) 
A lot of young girls running in there at all hours. 
Taxicabs dropping men off a block or two away so 
as not to excite suspicion. Suspicion. — Huh! 

Bellamy. That's a call house. 

Bascomb. {Dozvn r.) A what? 

Bellamy. A call house. Hundreds of them have 
sprung up in the city lately. Apartment houses 
are full of them. 

Bascomb. A call house? 

Bellamy. The woman that runs it has a list of 
telephone numbers, girls give 'em to her so she can 
call them up. A lot of them are girls that work in 
stores and don't earn enough to live on. A swell 
place of that kind was pinched in Milwaukee a 
while ago, and some scandal sheet got hold of the 
woman's telephone list and published it, names, 
numbers and all. Say, it pretty near disrupted the 
town. That list was so long it looked like a young 
directory — and some of the names on it ! — " Oh ! 
Good morning Judge." 

Bascomb. So that's it. 

Bellamy. That's only one way. There are lots 
of others. 

Bascomb [Going upstage to arch) Well, if 
Bradshaw is going to sidestep this matter, I'll see 
the Chief of Police. 

Bellamy. {Busying himself with a hook) That's 
a good idea. Tell your troubles to a copper. 

Bascomb. For the last time, is Bradshaw go- 
ing to see me or not? 

Bellamy. Not, is right. 

Bascomb. Very well, I give you fair warning. 
IVe protected him right along and now I'm through, 
and now he'd better get that girl out of this house 
if he knows what's good for him. 

Bellamy. {Turning to Bascomb) What girl? 

Bascomb. {Up c.) The girl he's been harboring 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 75 

here. You know the one I mean. Everybody's 
ta!kinc>- about it. The girl he's 

Bellamy. (Rising and crossing to Bascomb) 
I'd cut that talk if I were you. 

Bascomb. Why it's an open secret. They say 
the shame of it drove his children away and killed 
his wife. 

Bellamy. (Approaches Bascomb menacingly) 
I told you to cut that, didn't I ? (Goes up c. to street 
door, opens it, comes hack dozvn c. Pointing to 
door) That is the way out. 

Bascomb. (Going up to arch. Bellamy circles 
around to r, of Bascomb, Bascomb speaks as if to 
a seri'ant) Thanks my good man. Will you please 
say to Mr. Bradshaw that Judge Bascomb called? 

Bellamy. (Taking the servant pose) Very well, 
sir. Anything else, sir? 

Bascomb. (Irritated) No, nothing else, sir! 
(Exits stamping out street door) 

Bellamy. (Jokingly) Very good, sir. Call 
again, sir. (Bellamy laughs, closes door, comes 
dozvn R. to door and his expression changes. Won- 
deringly as he is about to exit) Gad! That's a 
new angle. (He exits through door down r. 
Woman enters through street door, glances around 
then beckons for Bess, ivho enters sobbing quietly 
and comes down c.) 

Woman. Wait here a moment, and I'll call your 
father. 

Bess. No-^not yet. 

Woman. You're tired out. Perhaps you had 
better come to your room and rest before you see 
him. 

Bess. (Resolutely) No, I mustn't see him. I 
can't face him. I can't face anyone. I don't know 
why I let you bring me here. But something told 
me I must come with you. Now I must go. 

Woman. No. 



^6 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bess. Please let me go. 

Woman. Your father is alone now, you know. 
You are the on!y one he has. Do you think it is 
fair to him. i\nd your mother 

Bess. My mother. You told me you had a mes- 
sage from her. 

V\''o?,TA?;. I have a messac^e. 

Bess. But you have not told me what it was. 

\\\oMAN. I asked you to wait until we were 
home. 

Bess. Dear mother. What word did she leave 
for me? {^Crosses and sits on chair l. c.) 

Woman. She wanted you to know that she loved 
yon and forgave you. 

Bess. (Sobbing) Oh, if she had only known 
that I was not altogether bad. That I had his prom- 
ise to marry me. That I believed and trusted him. 

WoT>iAN. She knew all that. 

Bess. She knew it. How? I told her nothing 
in my note. How did she knov/? 

Woman. I told her. 

Bess. (JVonderingly) You told her? But you 
didn't know. 

Woman. Yes, I knev/. 

Bess. And you told her that I had been tricked 
and deserted. That I had not intended to be bad. 
And that I have paid— Oh, how I have paid. You 
told my mother all ? 

Woman. I told her all. And she smiled as she 
gave me the message. 

Bess. My poor mother. 

Woman. (^^ c.) You will stav now — with your 
father? 

Bess. (Wavering) My father! I'm afraid. 

Woman. Don't be afraid. There is nothing to 
fear. Your father is much changed. He needs 
you. Come, you will stay? (She holds out her 
arms entreatingly) 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE J-J 

Bess. (Rising and moving toward The Woman 
slozvly as though in a daze. A szveet maternal smile 
lights up the Woman's face) You are a servant — 
in my father's house. And yet when you spoke just 
now, it seemed to me I heard my mother's voice and 
it was she who said, ** Come, you will stay." 

Woman. And you will stay? 

Bess. (Falteringly) Yes, if you think it best. 
Something tells me 1 must do as you say now, — 
because — because — (Falls sobbing on Woman's 
breast) 

Woman. Because I understand. (Pause) Come. 
(They both cross up to arch, the Magdalene sup- 
porting Bess and exit ad lib. up the stairs) 

Bellamy. (Opens door dozvn r. and enters fol- 
lozved by Bradshaw) I always knew you were a 
hard man, Mr. Bradshaw, but I never knew you 
were a cruel, and unforgiving one until to-day. 
(Crosses up l.) 

Bradshaw. (Crossing to c.) Well, if I am, 
I am, and there's an end of it. 

Bellamy. And you won't allow her to come 
back ? 

Bradshaw. No. I've told you no, and that's 
final. (Crosses to l. and sits at desk) 

Bellamy. (Crossing to l. c.) Well, then, will 
you do this for me. You must admit I've done one 
or iwo things for you. If she comes home, will you 
have someone kt me know where I can find her. 

Bradshaw. (Wearily) I'll try. I'll try. 

Bellamy. Thanks. Good night. (He goes up 
to street door and is about to exit) 

Smollet. (From porch) Well, Mr. Bellamy, 
I always meet you here. 

Bellamy. (Disgustedly) Yes, so it seems, 

Smollet. Is Mr. Bradshaw in? 

Brllamy. I think so, I'll — (He is about to turn 
to speak to Bradshaw) 



78 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Smollet. Never mind. I'll see for myself. 

Bellamy. {As he exits) All right, go as far as 
you like. 

Smollet. (Enters through arch, crosses to l. 
and goes to Bradshaw at desk) My dear friend. 
I'm sorry to find you like this. (He takes Brad- 
SHAw's hand) 

Bradshaw. Why does all this have to come to 
me? 

Smollet. (Crossing around back of Bradshaw's 
chair) Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth. 

Bradshaw. I tell you Smollet, I believe it is 
God's punishment. Punishment for my pride, my 
colossal pride. Pride in my son's integrity — my 
daughter's virtue, my own smug, serene, sanctified 
satisfaction in my religion, which hasn't been re- 
ligion at all, nothing but a canting hypocrisy. 

Smollet. (Amazed) Don't say that! 

Bradshaw. I do say it. I see it now. I saw It 
a few days ago when I looked into the dead face of 
my dear wife and felt the props fall from under 
my money-made faith, — the holier-than-thou kind 
of religion that comes with mahogany pews and 
subsidized sermons. 

Smollet. I am sorry to find you in this frame 
of mind. (Sits in chair dozvn l.) 

Bradshaw. Sorry that I've found myself out? 

Smollet. Nonsense, my dear friend. You have 
been the very corner-stone of our church. 

Bradshaw. I've written checks, if that's what 
you mean. Checks that cost me no more effort or 
sacrifice than if I were to give you a flower from 
that vase there. 

Smollet. Look at the splendid revival which 
closes to-night. You were instrumental in bringing 
this great Evangelist here. 

Bradshaw. My money, perhaps. 

Smollet. Thousands have been converted. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 79 

Bradshaw. Converted ? 

Smollet. Yes. Hundreds have come nightly 
down the saw-dust trail. (Rises) No need to tell 
you what a noble work has been done. (Putting his 
hand on Bradshaw's shoulder) 

Bradshaw. If it is so, I am very glad. 

Smollet. (Crosses in back of Bradshaw 
around to L. c.) And now to speak of a matter 
which brooks of no delay — if I may be so bold — as 
your Pastor to mention what has brought me to you 
to-night. 

Bradshaw. Yes, go on. 

Smollet. (Sitting in chair l. c.) This young 
woman in your household. I have heard 

Bradshaw. I know. You have heard that she 
is an unfortunate who is trying to redeem herself 
from a life of shame. Yes, it is true. 

Smollet. But I marvel at you, permitting her 
to remain in your home. Does it not suggest itself 
to you that her evil presence may have been the 
cause of your appalling misfortunes? 

Bradshaw. Smollet ! If God has rebuked me 
for doing an act of simple kindness, then I don't 
want His clemency. (Both rise) 

Smollet. (Backing to c.) Mr. Bradshaw! 

Bradshaw. (Crossing above desk to Smollet) 
If God is bigot, a tyrant, an oppressor of the weak, 
I am sorry that I ever spent an hour in His worship. 

Smollet. What blasphemy! 

Bradshaw. Now is no time to harangue me with 
this. The woman stays, and that's an end of it. 
(Sits in chair l. c.) 

Smollet. But I must press you to listen further. 
I had hoped to get you to take the advice of your 
Pastor without presenting the serious phase of the 
matter. You perhaps don't know it, but your ex- 
traordinary conduct has been made the sensational 
subject for town gossip for a fortnight. It has 



So THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

become a scandal which, due to your importance 
in the community, has assumed alarming propor- 
tions. It will startle you to learn that Gleason re- 
ferred to it in his sermon last night, and prayed 
that you might be brought to a realization of your 
offense against the decency of the community. 

Bradshaw. He dared do that? 

Smollet. He dares anything — you know that. 
He stops at nothing; and I just learned only a few 
moments ago that to-night he plans to follow up 
his prayer by coming here to exhort you publicly. 
Mind you, I don't approve of everything this man 
does. I told you that when we discussed bringing 
him here. 

Bradshaw. Well go on. 

Smollet. So to-night, in fact in a very few min- 
utes, unless I can bring him a message from you, 
he and some of his followers will halt in front of 
your house on their way to the tabernacle, and he 
will demand that you drive this woman from un- 
der your roof. 

Bradshaw. Demand ! 

Smollet. And so I beseech you to turn her out 
now so that I may go back and tell him that she 
is gone. (Crosses to R. c.) 

Bradshaw. Turn out this woman who sat day 
and night at the bedside of my poor wife, repay 
her tender devotion by throwing her into the street ? 
(Rises and crosses to Smollet) No, my dear 
Smollet. You may go back to Gleason and tell 
him that for once in his life Elijah Bradshaw is 
going to do the decent thing. He may invoke the 
Divine wrath against me. He may kindle for me 
the fires of Hell, but just so long as I have a roof 
and this woman desires its protection, she may stay. 
(Crosses to l. c.) The world holds nothing for 
me now but the memory of my dead wife. If it 
were not for the sustaining influence of her beau- 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 8i 

tiful and virtuous life, I would end it all I think. 
But so long as I live I shall follow the dictates of 
my own conscience and not be bullied by some hired 
exhorter, who seems by some strange coincidence 
always to find the fields fertile for soul-saving where 
they are also fallow for dollar-getting. (Crosses 

to R.) 

Smollet. I regret exceedingly your alarming 
attitude and I can't promise you what the result of 
your very unusual behavior will be. 

Bradshaw. Don't spare me ; you have said that 
the Lord loveth whom He chasteneth ; pray there- 
fore, that he love me overmuch. (In front of fire- 
place) But not more than human nature can en- 
dure. 

Smollet. (Turns and faces arch) Rest as- 
sured. Elijah, I shall pray for you. 

Bradshaw. And I shall pray that your prayers 
reach the Divine ear. Good-bye. 

(Smollet goes to arch.) 

Smot.tet. (Gets hat from chair up c.) Good- 
bye. (Starts to go) 

Bradshaw. Oh, will you be with those of our 
friends to-night? (Smollet turns; Bradshaw in- 
dicates front of house) 

Smollet. (From c. of arch) I shall be on the 
side of righteousness. 

Bradshaw. I am so sorry. 

Smollet. Good night. (He exits. Bradshaw 
zvalks slowly to desk and sits. Woman enters from 
R. and crosses to r. of desk) 

Woman. I have news for you. 

Bradshaw. (Looking up) News? 

Woman. Of your daughter. 

Bradshaw. Well ? 

Woman. It was as we thought. He deserted 
her. 



S2 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw. They were married? 

Woman. No, he tricked her and left her. 

Bradshaw. The hound ! 

Woman. At Montreal. 

Bradshaw. Montreal — (He sinks in chair with 
his head in his hands) The sins of the fathers ! 

Woman. She is very penitent. She wants your 
forgiveness. She is 

(Phone bell rings.) 

Bradshaw. (Wearily) Hello, — who — Bellamy 
— yes I know — Smollet just told me — No, not that, 
ff it's my last act on earth — No, my boy, that would 
be useless. Don't I know that crowd? Haven't I 
been their ringleader — (Band and crowd start 
faintly in the distance) Don't try, I think I hear 
them now — yes, they're coming, — good-bye. 

Otto. (Enters excitedly) What is it sir, what 
is it ? 

Bradshaw. Turn out those lights, quickly, 
quickly. (Otto turns out lights and exits through 
street door) My friends are paying me a call. 

Woman. (At c. In spot) I knew they would 
come. They have come for me, to stone me. 

Bradshaw. They'll not dare! 

{Crowd increases in volume and finally stops as if 
in front of house. Band is playing Billy Sun- 
day hymn " The Brewer's Big Horses/') 

Gleason. (Voice off-stage in stentorian tones) 
My friends, stop here a while. This is the home 
of Elijah Bradshaw 

Voices in Crowd. Ah Bradshaw. Come out. 
Where's your manners? 

Gleason. This city's most illustrious backslider 

Voices in Crowd. Come out and show yourself. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 83 

Don't be backward. Come out. We're your 
friends. 

Gleason. Judas bought a ticket to Hell with 
thirty pieces of silver. Bradshaw here has bought 
his ticket and he's paid his price. Judas was the 
arch-traitor of his town — Bradshaw is the arch- 
traitor of his. From a leader of the hosts of God 
he has fallen into the abyss of sin. At this moment 
he is harboring under his roof a harlot — an un- 
speakable creature with Hell's seal upon her. 

Voices in Crowd. A harlot! A harlot! Send 
her out. Shame ! Come out, come out. 

Gleason. Let him hide in the shadow of his 
own infamy. Let us pause a moment (Crowd 
zvhich has been murmuring nozv stops and there is 
a dead silence) and pray that he may be snatched 
like a brand from the burning. (He prays) Dear 
God, incline Thine ear as we beseech Thee 

Bradshaw. (Rushes to window, throzvs open 
curtains, opens windozv and steps out on porch) 
Stop — stop, we need no prayers of yours. 

Voices in Crowd. Bradshaw ! There he is. 
That's him. Bradshaw, Bradshaw. 

Bradshaw. (Lookiyig over faces in crowd) 
Well, what do you want with me ? (Crowd continues 
to murmur) Barnes, Jennings, and Stillman. All 
my friends. Ah, Smollet, Thou too Brutus. 

Gleason. Never mind them. The woman — 
let her stand forth. 

Voices in Crowd. The woman ! Bring her out 
here ! Let her stand forth ! 

Bradshaw. She shall not. This is my home 
Gleason and I warn you to go before I send you and 
some of your saintly crew to face the God you talk 
to so glibly. 

Gleason. The nearer we get to God, the more 
elbow room and the smaller the crowd. Send the 
woman out. 



84 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bradsiiaw. Never! (Stones crash through 
glass, Brads HAW rushes to desk drazver and gets 
gun ) 

Voices in Crowd. Stone him! Stone him! 
(Crowd keeps up shouting, Bradshaw appears at 
•ivindoiv zvith revolver zvhich he levels at Gleason. 
Bess comes down the stairs, enters through arch. 
She is partly dressed and her hair is down) 

Bradshaw. (Leveling gun) Pray, now, Glea- 
son, and for yourself. (Bess screams, rims to her 
father, pulls dozvn his arm. She kneels at his feet, 
still holding Jiis arm) 

Voices in Crowd. The woman! There she Is. 
Stone her ! Stone her ! 

Gleason. Woman stand forth. 

Voices in Crowd. Come out, shame. Make her 
come out. Stone her. Stone her! 

Bradshaw. {Standing before her and placing a 
protecting hand on her head) Stop, stop — I com- 
mand you in the words of Christ. (Crozvd which 
has been shouting stops, and again there is a dead 
silence) " Let him among you who is without sin 
first cast a stone at her." (Light comes up on Mag- 
dalene picture and dims out again, Bradshaw 
stands majestically confronting the mob. 

Woman. (Ate.) At last! At last! (She exits) 

Voice in Crowd. Ah come on Jimmie, can't 
you see he's beat you at your own game ? Cut that, 
you 

Gleason. Come over to the tabernacle and we'll 
pray for him there, though I think he's past 
redemption. 

Voices in Crowd. Quit shoving. Who's shov- 
ing. You are. Get off that flower bed. What's 
the matter with the Band ? Spiel, can't you. 

Gleason. What's the matter with you fellows? 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 85 

Are you all hypnotized? Toot her up there. 

(Band starts and crozvd moves ad lib. Voices grow- 
ing zveaker and music fainter.) 

Bradshaw. (Raising girl to her feet. She backs 
dozvii c. with her head bozved. Finally she lifts her 
head. Bradshaw in astonishment, then breaks down 
and clasps her to him) Bess! My daughter — my 
own Httle girl. I thought it was — I didn't know — 
my baby. (She is weeping bitterly as Bradshaw 
leads her to arch) Go to your room — your old 
room, and may God forgive you as I do. 

Bradshaw. (He kisses her on the forehead. 
Bradshaw crosses back to desk. The stage is in 
darkness except for the lamp on the desk. He sits 
in deep abstraction for a fezv seconds, then notices 
the letter of the girl. He picks it up and starts to 
read. Reading) " I shall remain here to see your 
wife torn from you by death and to see you follow 
her to your grave deserted, heart-broken and dis- 
graced." {He drops letter, takes revolver out of 
pocket of his dressing gown, holds it under light 
and starts to put it to his head. Woman enters 
up r. and stands in front of desk. The situation is 
identical zvith that in first act. She is dressed in 
same cloak but underneath wears a purple vestment) 

Woman. (Stops Bradshaw with a gesture) 
Not that. (He puts gun on desk) I must leave you 
now. You do not need me any more. Your 
daughter has returned to you. 

Bradshaw. (Arousing himself from his stupor) 
My daughter — are you not my daughter? 

Woman. No. 

Bradshaw. (Rising) Then you deceived me — 
you lied to me 

Woman. I never told you so. You yourself 



S6 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

said it. It was your own conscience that spoke. 

Bradshaw. Then if you are not my daughter, 
who are you? You come into my house Uke a thief 
in the night — you bring with you a curse — a curse 
that has blasted my Hfe and the Hves of those I 
love, and now your work is done, you go, — but be- 
fore you go — before you pass that door — you will 
tell me this. Why did you come here ? Why — why 
have you done this thing to me? 

Woman. To reach your heart and humble your 
pride. Not to condone sin, but to waken in you a 
sense of your own unworthiness to sit in judge- 
ment of your fellow creatures, and to prove to you 
that our misfortunes are not always of our own 
making. 

Bradshaw. My punishment is greater than I 
can bear — my heart goes out to those who suffer as 
I am suffering now. 

Woman. That is why my task is done. When 
you stood there just now and spoke His words, I 
knew that I need stay no longer. 

Bradshaw. (In aived voice) Woman, — in God's 
name who are you ! 

Woman. (Dropping black cloak. White spot com- 
pletely envelopes her, Blue spot dims off on Brad- 
shaw. Music far away, as if from the tabernacle, 
is heard) I am the Eternal Magdalene, made im- 
mortal by the touch of His hand two thousand years 
ago. When they that would have stoned me turned 
sullenly away; the Savior raised me up, saying 
" Woman, doth no man condemn thee ? " And I 
answered '* No man, Lord." And Jesus said 
" Neither do I condemn thee, but I appoint thee My 
messenger. Go thou down the centuries and bear 
witness to this that thou hast seen. In every clime 
and in every season thou wilt find those who have 
sinned as thou hast sinned. Stand between them and 
their persecutors as I have stood between thee and 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 87 

thine. And upbraid them not, for are they not 
all children of the same Father? There are arnong 
my disciples those who will preach of many things, 
but to thee I entrust this text : ' He that is without 
sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.' 
Go now and sin no more." And he departed and I 
stood as one transfixed, gazing after Him. And 
my brow burned from His touch and through my 
veins coursed blood that had been cleansed as by 
fire. Thus have I come through the ages speakir;- 
His word and thus shall I go on and on while na- 
tions crumble and empires fall, bearing His mes- 
sage of mercy to man. My task here is done and 
even now the Master beckons from afar. Fare thee 
well. (She turns upstage) 

{Lights fade to black.) 

Bess. {From porch) Why, the door is locked! 
Paul, you have the key. 

Paul. Yes, I'm getting it. {Noise of unlocking 
door) There you are. 

Bellamy. Watch your step. Safety first. 

Bess. {Entering through arch) Has everyone 
gone to bed ? 

Paul. {In hall) Turn on the lights. Funny 
everything's dark. (Martha turns on lights. Paul 
enters and crosses to l. c.) Hello, there's dad 
asleep. 

Bess. {Crossing to Bradshaw) Here, old 
sleepy head, wake up, wake up. {Shakes him) 

Bradshaw. {Slozvly awakening) No — no — 
{Sees wife first) Martha! {Passes hands over 
eyes, staring as if he could not believe what he was 
seeing. Bess tugs at his arm which brings him 
around) Bess! {Turns back to look at wife again, 
sees PuAL standing r. c.) My boy! {He remem- 
bers Woman who was just there and rushes to 



88 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

windozv) Come back! Stop that woman! She 
lied to me! She Hed to me. 

Martha. (Rushing to zvindoiv and taking 
Bradshaw hy the arm) Elijah! EHjah! 

Bess. {At -l. c.) What woman father? 

Paul. {At r. c.) Who do you mean? 

Bradshaw. {Opens curtains and window, finds 
it zvhole. He sloivly realizes he has had a dream. 
Comes down l. c. from windozv in a daze zn/ith 
Martha and Bess supporting him) What time 
is it ? 

Bellamy. {Back to table r. c.) Why it's just 
ten minutes of eleven. 

Paul. We've just come from the tabernacle. 

Bradshaw. {Passing his hand over his fore- 
head) Gad, I've had a frightful session here! 

Martha. Sleeping you mean. And snoring ter- 
ribly I'll bet you. 

Paul. Gleason was great to-night. He preached 
on the sins of the fathers. You shouldn't have 
missed it, Dad. (Paul crosses to door down r. and 
exits. Bradshaw crosses to desk and sits) 

Bellamy. (Crossing to desk) And the collec- 
tion was eight thousand. What do you think of 
that? Oh, by the way, Mr. Bradshaw if you have 
that statement ready, I'll hurry it right over to The 
Star. 

(Martha crosses to fable r. c. and takes hat ana 
coat off.) 

Bradshaw. (Slightly dazed) What statement? 

Bellamy. AVhy, you know the 

Bradshaw. Oh yes, I remember now. I had 
just finished it when I must have dozed off. (He 
looks at it a moment intently, shakes his head in 
disapproval, tears it deliberately through the middle) 

Bellamy. Why, what are you doing ? 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 89 

Bradshaw. No, I don't think I'll let you print 
this. It's hardly what I want to say. 

Bellamy. But The Star expects some expres- 
sion from you about the district — the women — I 
really must have something. 

Bradshaw. The women — you must have some- 
thing? Then say that Elijah Bradshaw refused to 
be interviev/ed but quoted scripture instead, say- 
ing, " Let him among you who is without sin cast 
the first stone at them." 

Bellamy. (Joyously) Then you've changed 
your mind? {Glancing at Bess) Remember your 
promise? Does that promise go? {Puts his arms 
around Bess) 

Bradshaw. Well you know John, I'm a man 
of my word. 

Bess. I told you that sometimes he says no when 
he means yes. 

(Bellamy kisses Bess, turns and looks at Mrs. 
Bradshaw unth a smile.) 

Bellamy. (Glancing at zuatch) Well, eleven 
o'clock is the deadline. I've got to go to the office. 
I'll see you in the morning. Good-night, Mrs. Brad- 
shaw. 

Bess. (Doesn't want him to go) No, — no — but 
I don't — (She follozvs him to arch) 

(Bellamy glancing at Mrs. Bradshaw again kisses 
Bess up c. then exits quickly out street door.) 

Paul. (Entering quickly from door down right) 
Oh, Dad, can Sis and I go to the show to-morrow 
night ? 

(Both Martha and Bess give Paul a warning 
gesture. ) 



90 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw. Well, if you're a good boy and moth- 
er's willing, I think we'll all go. {Crosses to Mar- 
tha c. and takes her in his arms. Bess and Paul 
throw up their hands for joy) 

Curtain, 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 91 



DESCRIPTION OF CHARACTERS. 

Elijah Bradshaw — 

An American business man of the *' Captain of 
Industry " type — firm and forceful to the point of 
austerity. He is about sixty years of age, dressed 
well, though not foppishly. A man of great initia- 
tive and of poor patience with men who fail. He 
has a strict moral code which he enforces in his 
home. In religion he is orthodox, just as in busi- 
ness he is honest, because he believes honesty to 
be the best policy. He hates sin in the same way 
that he hates any other form of inefficiency. 

Martha Bradshaw — 

A woman of fifty. She has shared her husband's 
early struggles and is still his best ally and most 
enthusiastic admirer. Although wealthy in later 
years, she has never been a climber, preferring her 
home and its responsibilities to the usual social di- 
versions. She is comely, cheerful, and kind- 
hearted — perhaps a trifle old-fashioned judged by 
modern standards. 

Elizabeth Bradshaw — 

Young girl (eighteen or twenty) of the approved 
small-city type. She is a bit spoiled and just a lit- 
tle blase in a small-town-boarding-school sort of 
way. Pretty and attractive and popular. 

Paul Bradshaw — 

About twenty or twenty-four. He first appears 
as a decent sort of a chap, but later in the play ex- 
hibits caddish and vicious tendencies. He is dressed 
well and carries himself as to suggest a proud, 
well schooled and worldly-wise youth. 



gj THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

John Bellamy — 

A rather breezy though sincere, American news- 
paper imin. He may be twenty-seven, or there- 
abouts. Has the real newspaper instinct which 
spells loyalty to his paper and to the public. His 
experiences as a newsgatherer in all walks of life 
; have taught him to see things clearly ; quickly to 
discern sham and hypocrisy and to detect the real 
motives underlying many alleged benefactions and 
philanthropies. He is frank and fearless, though at 
no time flip or smart. 

Birmingham Smollet — 

A minister of the gospel, forty-fiA^e or there- 
abouts. He is the modern kind of preacher, sub- 
sidized by his wealthy parishioners and preaching 
the sort of sermons that he thinks they will en- 
dorse. He dresses rather smartly, looks like a well- 
groomed business man. He has a frank, ingratiat- 
ing manner and is likely to impress the casual per- 
son with his sincerity. 

Judge Amos Bascomb — 

A retired member of the judiciary. He is an old 
man (65 or so) of the foxy type. Likes the ladies 
and the other good things of life. He is lined up 
with the reformers for the same reason that pirates 
sometim.es consider it expedient to wear masks v/hen 
skuttling a ship. 

Arnold Macv — 

A man of forty. He hails from New York; is 
a bond salesman, though not of the flip type He 
dresses in fashion and has an alert-up-to-date man- 
ner. The sort of fellow that unsophisticated young 
women are supposed to fall for. 

Blanche Dumond — 

Of uncertain years — anywhere from thirty to 



'IHE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 93 

forty. Althou^^rh in a business that may only be 
spoken of in whispers, she is a woman of evident 
refinement and education. She dresses stylishly, 
but does not overdo it. By her appearance you 
would jude^e her to be the wife of a well-to-do 
professional man, accustomed to moving in a verv 
ci^ood stratum of society. 

Otto- - 

A servant more of the valet type than the con- 
ventional stage servant. He dresses in dark clothes, 
not livery. May be anywhere from forty to sixty 
in age. 

Rev. James Gleason — 

An evangelist of the rip-roaring, hell-raising 
Biily Sunday type. He is a big-lunged fellow, a 
six-footer about forty-five or fifty. He dresses in 
up-to-date clothes of almost sporty cut. He is dy- 
namic, forceful, convincing — a mental bully, who is 
used to dominating everyone with whom he comes 
in contact. 

Dan Burke — 

A plain clothes copper, about thirty. He is rough, 
glib and over-bearing. He wears a suit of ordinary 
dark clothes and soft hat. Inside his coat he wears 
a badge. 

A Woman of the Town — 

Presumed to be the woman Christ saved from a 
mob in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, when 
she was about to be stoned to death for adultery. 
Immortalized by His touch, she has, by His com- 
mand, come down through the centuries doing what 
she can to protect the women of the class to which 
she belonged, from persecution and cruelty. She 
is a Minister of Mercy, the custodian of His text: 



94 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

" Let him who is without sin cast the first stone." 
In age she may look twenty-five or even thirty. In 
demeanor she acts with great poise and deHbera- 
tion, as though what she is now doing she has done 
many times before. Compassion is a strong factor 
in her make-up, though it is evident that if neces- 
sary, she can be austere and even implacable. Al- 
ways she gives the impression (the mystery sugges- 
tion) that she is a creature apart — a being from 
quite another sphere of existence. This doesn't 
mean that she is to mope. She smiles and chats na- 
turally when scenes require it, but at the same time 
gets over the subtle suggestion of her other self— her 
immortal side. (Best example of this: Forbes Rob- 
ertson in " The Passing of the Third Floor Back ") 
She wears on first entrance, a mantle, or hooded 
cloak of the kind worn by women in Biblical times. 
She wears this same cloak again on her final exit. 
Under cloak in the first act she wears a red silk 
wrapper of the tawdry kind affected by women 
in cheap bagnios. She is decorated with cheap 
phoney jewelry. In the other acts she dresses sim- 
ply as a housemaid, except at her last appearance, 
when she wears a purple vestment under her sombre 
mantle. 

PROPERTIES 

ACT I 

Carpet, fire rug and door rug 

3 arm chairs and 7 straight back chairs 

Stair carpet 

Settee 

Library table 

24-inch table 

All Jacobean furniture 

On library table are blotting pad, writing matei.. 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 95 

papers, books in bookstand, telephone, paper 

holder with private paper, manuscript paper, 

woman's letter 
Mantel R., with fire irons and grate — ornaments on 

mantel — screen in back (tricked to work on 

que) 
Bronzes and vases on book cases 
Books on mantel 
Curtains on arches and bookcases — also on window 

L. 2 
Family Bible on bookcase 
Book cases filled with books 
Practical Victrola with special record (Poupchen, 

Columbia A5531) 
Walnut waste basket above desk L. 
Windows C. to be broken. 
Hall clock effect off R. 
Large hat rack off R. arch 

Large bundle of letters off R. stamped and post- 
marked 
Newspapers on table R. 
A push button to ring phone 
Bell box with ferns in window L. 
Electric door bell to ring off R. with push button 

outside door R.C. 
Buzzer on desk L. to ring off R. 
Newspaper for Bellamy- 
Money for Bradshaw (paper) 
Small black Valise (Woman's) 
Green window shades on both windows L.C. and L. 
Large painting of Magdalene and the Saviour over 

mantel 

ACT II 

Empty vase on desk L. 

Fresh bouquet of flowers off R. 

Calling card for Blanche Dumond 



96 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

Newspaper for Judge Bascomb 
Small (ladies) bag for Bess 
Cigarettes and matches for Paul 
Large roll of money for Paul 
Note book and record blank for Burke 

2 suitcases for Paul 

ACT III 

Revolver in cabinet of m^antel 
Music stands off L. for band 
A basket of padded stones for mob 

3 leaded wires to break windows 
Organ and stool off L. 

LIGHTING PLOT 

I Circuit Frosted White Foots 
T Circuit Frosted Pink Foots 
I Circuit Frosted Amber Foots 

No Borders used 

Brids^e hung in place at first Border 

3 Baby spot lamps on bridge which must be wide 

enough for men to lie on facing audience and 

work lamps under ceiling 
The Center Baby is used on Magdalene only and 

always with Light Straw Color 
The Left Baby is trained on desk chair and works 

on Bradshaw only with steel-blue color 
The Right Baby trained on picture of Magdalene in 

Act I to work at cue 
Steel Blue Act 3 it is used to cover Bradshaw and 

Bess at window L.C. 
In Act II the three work through act until finale as 

Floods light Straw table lamp on desk to woric 

on cue 
Brackets on walls at back of room 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 97 

2-lamp amber strip in doorway R.LC. 

TO lamp Frosted white strip over arch R.C. 

T 000— watt bunches at window L.C. 

Babv spot steel blue at window L.C. 

These lamps are dark hue in Acts I and III and 

straw in Act II 
Baby spot in fireplace R. — Pink v/orks Act III 
Fire ?rate with red lamps covered with glass for 

glow 
Evervthinc: used in this performance in the way of 

liehts must be on independent dimmers to wor^- 

separately 

LIGHT PLOT 

ELECTRICIAN ON STAGE 

MOONLIGHT IN GARDEN 

ACT I 

When Otto goes to street door — Hall lis^hts out. 
When Bt^adshaw falls asleep on table — Table lamp 

dims S'Ow'y out. 
When Magdalene puts hand over lamp — Table 

lamp comes back up to full on dimmer. 
When curtains are closed — Blue strip-lights down 

and out on dimmer in Garden-Blue baby spot 

through street door. 

ACT II 

SUNLIGHT IN GARDEN 

At finish of Act — At Cue Loud Martha — All stage 
hghts out on dimmer on count of four (4) At 
second curtain lights full up. 



98 THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

ACT III 

MOONLIGHT IN GARDEN 
Fire-^rate and table lamp on same dimmer. 
Fire-jrlow in fireplace on. On dimmer. 
At Cue When Otto runs info hall — Hall li.^hts out 

when curtains are closed strip lights down on 

dimmers to 7-8%. 
At Cue Stop I need no prayers from such as you — 

Baby spot on window 3^ down " deep Blue 

medium." 
At Cue Go to your room and may God forgive you 

as I do — Dim fire glow out slowly. 
When Bradshaw closes curtains — Dim Blue Baby 

on window down and out. 
At Cue " Woman in God's name who are you?" — 

Dim table lamp and fire grate out on count of 

fifteen. 
When Magdalene disappears and applause has died 

out count nine slowly — and start table lamp up 

to full. 
At Cut Turn on the lights — Hall lights up when Mr. 

Bradshaw pushes on szvitch — Foots and 

Brackets on. 
At Second Curtain call — All stage lights out. 

ELECTRICIAN ON SWITCH BOARD 

" Foots only " Light amber — Frost — frost pink. 

Foots up full at opening. 

When Otto turns out large table lamp — Foots 

down 54- 
When Otto pushes switch plate — Foots out. 

ACT II 

Foots full up — Brackets out. 

At Cue After Bradshaw goes up stairs. At Loud 



THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 99 

Martha ! Foots out. 
At Second Curtain — Foots full up. 

ACT III 

Foots full up — Brackets on. 

At Cue " Otto turns out the lights " Foots and 

Brackets out as Otto pushes switch plate. 
When Mrs. Bradshaw pushes switch — Foots and 

Brackets up. 
At Second Curtain foots and brackets out. 

RIGHT BRIDGE LAMP NO. i. 
ACT I 

Blue spot comes up slow as table lamp goes down on 
count of six and right down on count of six. 
Lamp comes on ^. 

(On Magdalene Picture) 

ACT II 

Flood on couch — Straw and frost. 
At Cue Leave this house and never enter it again — 
Blind lamp out. 

ACT III 

When Bradshaw opens curtains — Blue spot through 
window. When curtains are closed blind lamp 
off quick. 

CENTER BRIDGE LAMP NO. 2 
ACT I 

At Cue When Magdalene places hand over table 
lamp comes up. Pin spot on face. 

At Cue '" Will you believe me now " after cloak is 
throzvn off- enlarge spot to cover her up. Keep 
spot on until second curtainrthen off quick. 



roo^ THE ETERNAL MAGDALENE 

ACT II 

Oi>kn Act with flood on table. " Straw and Frost " 
At Cue " Leave this house and never enter it again 

— Blind off lamp. 
At Cue " This House is accurst " face spot on 

Magdalene until "Repeat" on curtain calls. 
^ ACT III 

Atf Cue " Turn out the lights Otto " Face spot on 

Magdalene until exit Blind off quick. 
At Cue " Not that, not that, please " Face spot on 

Magdalene. 
At Cue "/ am the Eternal Magdalene" (After 

Black Cloak is off) Spot to cover her up. 
when Magdalene turns and throws up her hand 

Spot off quick. 
Repeat on curtain calls. 

LEFT BRIDGE LAMP No. 3 
ACT I 

When table lamp comes up on dimmer Blue spot 
on " Bradshaw " up on dimmer to ^ keep on 
until curtain hits floor — blind off. 

ACT II 

Floor Lamp " Straw and Frost " on table until cue 
Leave this house and never enter it again — Blind 
lamp off quick. 

ACT III 

At Cue Hear them coming nozv — Blue spot % on 
Bradshaw, following him until cue '' Go to 
your owft room and may God forgive you as I 
do — Steel spot over to Bradshaw's chair. 

At ;Cue ''I am the Eternal Magdalene'' Dim 
slowly down and out. 



G 



